Trampled Flowers
by ICanMakeTheStarsDance
Summary: Princess Elaine Lefford, of the royal family of Astor, has had a rather shocking life for one of royal blood, after being left at the altar, in front of thousands of press, and spectators, when she was twenty years old. Now, being twenty-two, she spends her days with her elder sister, who is heir to the throne. Elaine never expected to have affections for a prince, however.
1. Chapter 1

"The flowers aren't placed correctly."  
Before my butler can fix the bouquet himself, I reach out both my hands, and turn the bundle of white flowers, to my liking. I then study it, and decide it's time to move on down the aisle way. Servants of my own family, and countless others from the services we've called on for this wedding, are bustling around, much like bees in a hive, working for their Queen. I guess that isn't too far off of what they're doing, since I am of the royal family.  
"Miss Elaine, I'm not certain if it's appropriate for you to oversee the preparations so closely." Petyr, my butler, speaks behind me while I stride ahead on the red carpet, not anywhere near the altar yet. My wedding is to be extravagant, and the walk down the aisle to my future husband will be no less extravagant than everything else, so it's a rather long pathway, splitting the hundreds of rows of pews for the guests that will sit there in less than two days. The train of my gown will look outstanding on the walk down-it nearly makes the dress double its size.  
"Oh, Petyr, I just wanted to see everything." I sigh, turning my head to look at him. Petyr is two years older than me, the age of my sister, and he stands at my height. I always thought he could pass for a brother of mine, with his brown hair a shade darker, along with certain features of his face being similiar. One of the only differences are his eyes, which are a lovely shade of blue. Petyr is too handsome to be a butler, but he swears this will be his true love, his job, for the rest of his life.  
"My apologies, Elaine." He's holding his planner, filled with only my appointments. "The Queen wants you at the last-minute alterations to your dress. We must be leaving soon."  
I stretch out my time to take another look at the enormous church, to see the many people eyeing me with great interest, or hurrying to make everything perfect. I could almost fit in with some of them, with the way I'm dressed, I could almost pass for a high-up business woman, ready to shoot off orders for the pattern of the silk on the pillars, how many programs (which were engraved on thick, creamy paper) there should be for a pew. But I can't pass here for anything else other than a princess, set to marry a Lord's son in forty-eight hours.  
"Alright, we'll go." I turn on my short wedged heels, and make my way toward the front of the church, where security will be, keeping back paparazzi from taking pictures, which would ruin the surprise of what my ceremony looks like for the people of Astor, along with my car for today. I nearly make a mistake-Petyr has to stop to hand me sunglasses, to hide my eyes from flashing lights. It'll irritate my eyes, since I've taken to wearing contacts most of the time, and no one likes the bright lights in their face, anyhow.  
The car ride to the palace, where the designer of the gown, Jean Pierre, has set up a room specifically to work on my dress, is quiet and calm. I check my personal phone, going through some pictures I've taken with my sister, Genevieve, who is set to be Queen of Astor, when she turns twenty-five. Genevieve is in every way mature and demur, but she still has a lot of preparation to do. She'll likely be there, as well, with my mother, to see my wedding dress. Petyr is very kind to my sister, almost too kind for my mother's liking, but he is always respectful and dutiful to anyone of the royal family, Lefford. I wonder how he'll take to accompanying me to the castle where I'll be living as a married woman after this.  
My soon-to-be-husband is the son of close family friend, Lord Christopher D'Aubigne, Fredrick D'Aubigne. He is quite handsome, and only a year older than I am, with dark blond hair, hazel eyes, and a charming smile. I wouldn't say I'm in love with him, as this is a marriage of diplomatic purpose, but I can say that I can grow to love him. As for now, I am only close to him in the way a friend would be, but that's enough to start out with. My own mother and father hadn't met each other more than four times before they were united in matrimony, but they are a couple I see myself hoping to be with my husband some day.  
"Your Highness." Petyr gets my attention from my phone, and I close it, slipping it in the small handbag I got for my eighteenth birthday, when I had my presentation ball. The door is opened for me, and I slide out as gracefully as I can, ignoring calls from reporters, closely followed by bodyguards and Petyr. My entrance in the palace is greeted by a few maids, who gladly take my jacket, and ask if I'm in need of refreshment.  
"A glass of water, thank you." I nod, and am directed to the alterations room. I've been here many times before, but the sight of the dress, my dress, still surprises me. It is now on a dummy, and it's still as gorgeous as ever, though on the bodice I can see where some other beads and details were added and finished. The sleeves are lace, the bodice, along with many the second layer of the skirt, is silk. The outer layer of the skirt is the same silver-white lace as the sleeves, and the bodice has small pearls that mimic the same pattern. It is indeed a dress fit for a princess.  
"Elaine!" My mother calls, arms outstretched, and I gladly go to her for a hug. She is in an outfit that she usually wears, a skirt, blouse, and a fitted jacket. She is the embodiment of queenly elegance, and yet still, a mother to me. My mother passed on her dark brown hair (though hers is showing greys now) to both her daughters, but her eyes she gave to me. Genevieve has my father's shiny green eyes, that share the same trait of his, always looking as though he might laugh. My sister's attention had been on a maid, who brought me my drink, but now she smiled gently at me.  
"Here's your water, sister." Genevieve hands the glass to me, and as soon as I'm finished taking a refreshing drink, and I set it down, she wraps me in a hug, a tight squeeze which I return. Jean Pierre is nowhere to be found-and my mother tells me he sent a promising designer of his company in his stead.  
The promising designer is a young man every bit as elegant as one of noble blood. His clothes are not as popping as Monsieur Pierre's-rather, the opposite of it, a quiet beauty. He is in crisp, black slacks, and a button-up black shirt. His manners are magnificent, kissing my hand, and bowing, introducing himself as a Mister Edmund Carver.  
"Your Highness, I would like to see you in your dress now. Today, unlike the last times, I've brought the accessories. It's rather like a dress rehearsal."  
His words remind me that the real dress rehearsal, for the wedding, will be done tonight. I will practice my walk down the aisle, arm-in-arm with my father, only without my dress.  
It takes no time to fit the dress around me. I am changed into the undergarments and such that I will be wearing, during the wedding, and then the dress fits me with ease. I am helped out into the middle of the room, where there is a pedestal. My mother covers her mouth with her hands, something she's done at every appointment, and Genevieve looks over me with a gracious nod. I already know how I look in the dress, but I can't help but study my reflection again.  
The dress does fit perfectly, like a glove, as the expression goes. Even though my hair isn't curled or twisted up as it will be, it is beautiful. Edmund approved, and then, the accessories are added. A thin diamond necklace, from the vaults of my own family, worn by my great-grandmother, when she was married herself. A bracelet, from Jean Pierre. Small things, but I adore them with the dress.  
I look like a bride, and steadily, I prepare myself to be just so in two days.

The appointment went smoothly, I thanked Edmund, and sent my thanks for Monsieur Pierre along with him. The rehearsal went the same, as well, though the priest, nor my father, would have it that Fredrick and I share a kiss just yet. I laughed at the jest, and Fredrick smiled, though something in those endearing hazel eyes almost hinted at sadness, but I soon did not think of it, as I wanted to see the cake. I did always have a sweet tooth, once, even when I was a child, I was found hiding from my nanny, in a closet, with chocolate over my face. Of course, I was punished, but the love for sugar remained.  
The Day came, and so did a feeling of nerves. My mother and sister were dressed in equal stages of elegance, my sister's companion being one of the suitors my parents would like for her to take as her husband, after her being crowned Queen. However, they went to church ahead of me, while my father and I shared each other's company in the carriage on the way to the church, nearly like a parade, with the people cheering, and I would smile, and wave, my father and I making each other laugh. He shared the story of when he first held me in his arms, after my birth, and while we were positioned for the walk down the aisle, in the front of the church, with the lucky spectators that earned their places there, even with security, I couldn't help but give my father, the King, a kiss on the cheek.  
"My dear, you really have grown into a lady." My father's words made me smile, and the march to the altar began, the choir singing as lovely as they could ever. The flowers I were checking two days before, are amazing, the white striking against the red carpet. The girls carrying my train behind me are daughters of noble families, one girl even being Fredrick's niece. All eyes are turned to me, and I smile modestly, not grinning, as this is a church, but showing my happiness. And I am happy, I am making my family happy, and I know that I can find happiness with Fredrick, as well.  
My groom is standing at the altar, in military regalia, as he served for my country when he was nineteen, and still does serve, even though we are in a time of peace. He looks regal, a prince stepped out from the pages of a fairy tale. My heart is pounding-I can't tell whether I'm scared or excited. I wonder if he feels the same.  
The music quiets down, and my father presents me to my groom, and I gracefully move to face him, the train girls spreading out my train on the steps as they were taught. I know I'm not supposed to, but I stop the eldest, a girl of ten, Fredrick's niece, and sweetly tell her they did a grand job. She smiles, and goes to stand next to the others.  
I then turn to face Fredrick, holding my bouquet, which flowers match the ones decorating the pews. He smiles at me, but again I catch the hint of sadness I caught in his eyes during the rehearsals. My own smile falters. The priest says the vows that are given to those of the Lefford royal family during weddings, even though I am to take Fredrick's last name. We repeat them.  
And then there comes the sealing words. The priest opens his mouth. "Sir Fredrick Cornelius D'Aubigne, will you-"  
"I can't."  
The priest is taken by surprise, and I'm at a loss of words. Those in the upper rows, being the royal family, and his own, are immediately confused. My heart feels as though it will explode, but I'm oddly calm, just shocked.  
Fredrick lifts a hand to my cheek. "Elaine, I do adore you, but I'm not-I don't think I can fall in love with you, the same as you might with me."  
His heart had to lay somewhere else. I feel tears come to my eyes, but I nod. His lips brush my cheek in forgiveness. The crowd doesn't know what's happening, and my father stands, in rare anger.  
"Fredrick," The King begins, but I stop him.  
"N-no, Father. Let him go."  
Fredrick whispers his forgiveness. And then he leaves, striding down the aisle, his own father trying to stop him. He'll be escorted out somehow. No one knows what to do, but only my sister seems to. She hugs me, immediately comforting me while I let my tears fall into her shoulder. I don't know how to feel. I thought I was to be happy with this man. I thought I could be happy with this man.  
I'm taken to a back room, my family following behind, the guests on the brink of an uproar. My father only says one thing, bitterly, when we are all gathered in a private room, where I am trying not to stain this white dress.  
"The press is going to have a damned field day."


	2. Chapter 2

**Two Years Later**

The plane flight relaxes me, and I gladly accept the stewardess' offer of a glass of champagne, flipping through a magazine, one of the tabloid ones of my country. The pages on the royal family is still abuzz with my sister and I's trip to Nobel Michel, though there's a chance we will be staying in Charles. Charles is a beautiful country, but I haven't been in more than three years. However, an article catches my eye, and my lips thin in distaste.  
"_We're Nearing the Date of What Could Have Been Princess Elaine's Anniversary:  
We all know the devastating details of Princess Elaine Lefford's "ditch at the altar" but where is Fredrick D'Aubigne now?_"  
I don't care to continue reading it. I toss the magazine in the empty spot in front of me, as my sister is a seat or two behind me, busy on her pager or laptop, something of the nature. Genevieve is to become Queen Genevieve of Astor in a little less than twelve months, and she has had more appointments than I've ever seen her to have before. The stewardess comes with my champagne. I thank her, and gulp down a drink or two on impulse, trying to calm this streak of nerves. I despise the fact that this bothers me so much, but who wouldn't be bothered by such a thing?  
As for Fredrick, I heard he ran away to be with a woman he was rumored to be with before having joined the Astorian military. They married six months after the incident. I didn't cry at the news, I even sent my congratulations. Sometimes I wonder what she's like, but I don't want to pain myself to know. It would bother me too much, and look odd.  
I've even heard his wife is pregnant now.  
"That's enough champagne." I say to myself, aloud, setting the glass on the tray the stewardess left behind. I stand up, and make my way to my sister's seat in the plane. I surprise her a bit by taking a seat in front of her.  
"We'll be landing soon, Elaine." Is all she says, actually taking the time to turn her attention to me. She seems tired, all the time. I wonder if she finds herself ready to be monarch. She glances at me, and randomly takes a lock of my hair. "You were told there was a party being held at Nobel Michel tonight, correct?"  
I nod, but roll my eyes, rather "commoner" of me. "I don't think I'll be dancing much. After all, my almost-union is still a popular topic." The weeks, months after that, it was almost all the news could show. My sister's lips quirk up in a sad smile.  
"Oh, don't say that. After all Roberto Button, prince of Altaria, has been invited. He's rather...a ladies' man." Genevieve snickers, sounding like a teenager again. Speaking of which, a random memory pops in my head.  
"Button? Wasn't he the one that whoo'd you at your sixteenth birthday galla?" I had been only fourteen at the time, so Roberto Button was the perfect prince to me. Of course, I hadn't been asked to dance by any other than old noblemen, since it was a rule. Also, I always thought my dress had a say in the matter. It had been pink, and poofy. My mother thought it was darling, while my older sister had laughed at the sight of it.  
Genevieve nodded. "He's not one of my suitors, though. That would be an ill match, as he's supposed to be King of his country, and I, Queen of mine. Besides," Genevieve continued, waving her hand, "I don't believe he's my ideal personality type."  
I used to think about who my sister would end up with. Like there wouldn't be men beating each other to become a candidate of marriage with her, but I wonder, who exactly is Genevieve's type?  
"Your Highness', we are set to land in five minutes. Please, secure your seat belts." The familiar voice of Petyr took us out of our conversation. He was sitting up with the flight attendants, where he could make calls if necessary, but he interrupted to inform us. He was still my personal butler, even though I had maids, he was still the one I trusted most.  
"Thank you, Petyr." I say, doing so with my seat belt. My sister watches him go with interest, and turns to me.  
"Honestly, why hasn't your butler married yet?"  
I am surprised at her question. "Genevieve! He could still hear you!" I chide, but she pays no mind.  
"Elaine, has he even ever had a girlfriend?" She brushes some brown hair behind her ear, and I go through my time of knowing Petyr. No...he never has, that I know of.  
My thoughts are cut of by the pilot saying we're landing, and there's a bump or two, much like turbulence. One of the few things I dislike about planes. I suppose the other things are just when I can't get my orders precisely the way I want them. I really know nothing outside my royal life.  
The walk through the airport is every bit as hectic as I expected. Gaping passengers, photographers, while our security, and Petyr, along with my sister's favorite servant, Cyril, get us safely in our car. First, we will make our hotel in Charles, and drive the rest of the way to Nobel Michel. At least, that was the intended plan.  
Petyr is the one who informs is of a change in plans, closing his phone he uses for business. "Your Highness', Lord Michel has called, and has generously opened up Nobel Michel to us. He's invited those of immediate royal families to stay after the party."  
I don't know what to think of the news, but I know what the response should be. "Tell Lord Michel, thank you for his kindness."  
"We'll gladly accept the offer." My sister surprises me a second time, "After all, any noble who is in favor of Lord Michel has the upper hand in many things." I can't help but agree. Genevieve is the future queen, and I must follow her.  
So, instead of stopping in Charles, we head on, though there were a few kinks along the way, mainly with reporters and the like. But, we make it to Nobel Michel in the evening, an hour or two before the party, so we must hurry.  
Petyr has my things sent to the room that was prepared for me, Genevieve's being right across the hall. This palace is heavily guarded-Lord only knows how many opportunities of assassination, and kidnapping there could be without protection here. I follow my sister up the steps, sunglasses over my eyes, as usual in this situation. We are both greeted, bowed to, hands kissed in gracious manner, by a good-looking butler, with green eyes, and brown hair.  
"Your Highness', I am Zain, Lord Michel's butler. These maids will show you to your rooms, and help you prepare for the party tonight. We are most honored you accepted our invitation."  
"Thank you very much, Zain. I would like to introduce you to our servants. Petyr, who is my butler," Petyr gives a polite, short bow. "And Cyril, my sister's servant." Cyril mimics the same bow, his ginger hair falling into his grey eyes. I finish my introduction, and thank Zain again.  
I am shown to my room by a maid, with a tight, black bun. She is most kind, but rather by-the-rules type. My sister finishes changing before me, and I ask the maid to leave while we have a second or two to talk.  
"Genevieve, your dress is stunning." I say. Hers is a dark sapphire dress, with shining sequins hand-sewn in. It's a one-shoulder, and is slit up one side up to her knee. While it might have been inappropriate on someone else, Genevieve makes it look elegant, and classy.  
My own is a sleeveless evening gown, dark green, with my hair pinned up. "You look lovely, as well, sister." My sister takes time to study the wallpaper, and I know she has something to say.  
"Oh, what is it?"  
Genevieve takes her time, walking about the room, her high heels clacking. "This party, we both know you'll be given attention."  
"Not in the best way-"  
She shoots me a look to be quiet, the kind eyes, a stern storm of green. "Not the point. However, our parents knew that, and they would like it very much, if you would be able to choose a suitable match, for yourself."  
I narrow my eyes, and twist the gold bangle on my wrist. So my parents, want me to find another husband?  
"You can tell our mother and father, both, that I will marry when I'm well and ready." I say, with a hint of steel in my voice.  
Genevieve nears the door, our conversation is reaching its end. "Oh, please, Elaine, stop acting like a child. You're twenty-two. Mother and Father never said you had to get married this instant." I lower my eyes, annoyed that she's right, and I feel some shame. "Just appreciate the handsome princes, and dance with one or two. That's not a difficult task-you're not hideous."  
That being said, Genevieve steps out, and my maid, steps back in. She asks in the smooth voice of hers.  
"Your Highness, do you need anything else?"  
I shake my head, standing up, and smoothing the folds of my evening gown, letting it cover my pair of heels.  
"Not at all. I'm ready to take leave."  
And I'm shown the way to the ballroom.


	3. Chapter 3

I've always liked parties, I really have. I'm never the most outrageous or fun person there, of course, but I know how to enjoy myself. However, when my name is announced at Nobel Michel, and I can almost feel the collective gasp the guest were holding back from giving, I have to work hard at keeping my composure.  
I'm escorted by some kind old nobleman from Philip, who politely kisses my hand and leaves me be near the drinks, and such. My sister's presentation goes smoother than mine did, but I can still feel stares on me. Damn him, oh, I finally think it! Damn Fredrick, all my reputation is now is what _he_ chose to do. I manage a smile for my sister, but still go off in search of a drink. I shouldn't turn to drink when I feel this way, but for now, I have. I find a servant with a tray, with glasses of wine. At first, I fight the urge to wrinkle my nose at the fact that it's white wine, as Astor is known for its red wine exports, but I decide to try it, saying a word of thanks to the server.  
I take a drink, easily finding my sister in the crowd. She certainly has a charming aura, and everyone takes notice of her presence. I drink my wine, actually finding to quite like the taste, and am found by Petyr.  
On an impulse, I hug him, happy to have someone to talk to. He looks at me, bewildered. "Petyr, you dress up well." I say, looking him up and down, noticing the tuxedo he's wearing. And with his hair slicked back like it is now, he could pass for royalty midst them. He smiles at my compliment.  
"You look lovely as well, Miss Elaine." I nod, and turn my gaze towards my sister.  
"What do you think of my sister's dress, Petyr?" I ask, my own intentions behind the question not exactly of the best nature. However, I've had my suspicions on who was in love with who-Petyr supposedly loved his job more than his entire being, but I was beginning to think not. His blue eyes soften at the sight of Genevieve, smiling widely while speaking to a Lord and Lady from Charles.  
"Miss Genevieve certainly is fit to be a queen." Petyr says softly, but then turns to me, back into his butler-esque stature. "I must leave you know, Your Highness." He nods, and slips his arm out from mine, headed to start a conversation with Zain. A childish thought occurs in my mind, of butlers speaking only of butler things, but now I know they have lives outside their jobs, however hard they might try to suppress that fact from being known. I set my half-finished glass on another's serving tray, though that's not perhaps the correct conduct.  
I am stopped by a kind, familiar face. Immediately recalling the conversation with Genevieve in the plane, I know who he is.  
"Prince Roberto Button." I extend my hand for him to kiss, as is mannerly. He smirks at my recalling him so quickly.  
"Princess Elaine Lefford," Roberto says, kissing the top of my hand. "You look beautiful."  
Had I been that fourteen year old girl again, at my sister's party, I would have wanted to faint in his arms. But I'm twenty-two, and he seems to have matured, as well. Or, I'm not interested enough in him. I want to ask if he's here just to see how I'm fairing, when he perks up at a sight behind me.  
"Ah, Joshua, you finally cared to show up." Roberto speaks in a teasing tone, and I turn to see the Prince of Dres Van, Joshua Lieben. Astor has always been on good terms with that country, among the majority here, but I haven't made many frequent encounters with the princes. I believe there was once to be a betrothal between I and Edward Levaincois, but my mother decided that was entirely too old-fashioned for her taste.  
Joshua's appearance reminds me again of the type of quiet beauty, with his eyes that have an endearing feel to them, though he's expression seems as though he doesn't care to be here. However, he manages a polite bow. "Princess Elaine." He says in a noble tone, and turns to Roberto, who smiles widely at him.  
"I wasn't informed of Astor's appearance here, forgive me." Joshua states, and Roberto lets out a chuckle.  
"Silly prince, check any news paper. They always have lists of which countries appear here." He takes a drink from his glass, and excuses himself. "Be nice, I'm tired of seeing you scaring away women."  
His comment strikes me as odd, I wouldn't have expected Prince Joshua to ever scare anyone. However, I only clear my throat. "Prince Joshua, you look rather tired. Is everything alright?" I manage to snag another drink from a tray, and offer one to him, as well. The prince takes it without a word, and doesn't answer my question until after he takes a sip.  
"Everything is grand, I suppose." I get the feeling Joshua Lieben isn't a name to be associated with a social butterfly. I almost want to leave, but being rude is highly frowned upon. However, I am surprised by the next thing he says.  
"Might I have a dance with you, Princess Elaine?"  
I have to stop myself from choking on my white wine. I manage to hide my surprise, and I set down my glass next to his, on a table no one is sitting at. "I would be honored, Prince Joshua."  
The dance floor isn't anywhere near empty, but we certainly don't manage to hide in the crowd. I know how stares feel like, even when you can't see the people watching you. It's something I have grown used to, since my childhood. Still, I know why they are staring, and in a way, it unsettles me. I don't believe I've had a proper dance with anyone other than a family member, since my engagement to Fredrick. Then, it would be expected for me to dance with him at every event we shared together. It wasn't as if I had wanted to dance with anyone else at the time, anyhow. Afterwards, I must have had the aura of one who didn't want to associate with anyone. I didn't mind, then. But it's nice that Prince Joshua is the one to take me out of that hiatus.  
His hand sets on my waist, and I rest my hand on his shoulder. A simple waltz. When I was in my teens, I used to have ballroom dance lessons one every week. This is indeed simple, but elegant. I feel as though it's perfect for me. Subtle grace. I hope I fit the bill of that, no matter how odd I end up being.  
Joshua doesn't make a start of conversation right away, only leading to the music. However, he manages to ask a question. "Did you accept the invitation to stay at Nobel Michel?" He inquires, eyes now on my face. I nod.  
"It was kind of Lord Michel to do so. I wasn't too certain about it, but my sister wished for it. So, I followed her." I hope I haven't come out sounding like a jealous, kid sister. I'm not, I'm truly not. I even feel pity for my sister, having so much work to be done for her to be made Queen of our country.  
Prince Joshua merely nods. He really isn't talkative at all. I wonder if his social graces were enforced lessons, in Dres Van. I always did hear that their upbringing is rather different. To break the silence, though it isn't truly, the music still keeping us perfectly in tune with each other's fluid motions, I ask a question that's been on my mind.  
"Prince Joshua, did you happen to ask me to dance out of pity?"  
My inquiry strikes a cord. "I don't take charity cases, if you don't take that literally." Joshua says, his tone with just a hint of steel underneath. I know he doesn't mean he doesn't work for legitimate charity organizations, but I still stiffen at his answer, my hand clasping his own just a little tighter out of tension.  
"My apologies. The incident just seems to follow me everywhere." I say, honestly, lowering my eyes. Joshua seems curious, even though I know he knows of what happened two years ago. I don't look up until he leans in near my face, catching me by surprise.  
"Elaine, the music has stopped." He whispers, and drops his hands from their positions on me. I try to not let my minor embarrassment show, and I curtsy, he returning it with a bow, so we show we are done with our dance. Light chatter feels the room, with laughter here and there. I smile for Joshua.  
"Thank you, for letting me dance with you." I compliment, and he opens his mouth to do the same, before a woman, rather, girl, who must be on the brink of nineteen, politely interrupts, asking Prince Joshua for a dance. I can almost tell he's about to refuse.  
"Oh, you two will enjoy the next song. Prince Joshua, don't you think her dress would look lovely when she's dancing?" I nod her in her direction (her scarlet gown really is pretty), and she beams. He seems to know the deal.  
"Of course." And they make their way to the floor. I do know how to get my way out of situations, as I sensed needless questions would have arisen out of that conversation. I set off to find my sister, returning greetings from those who bow lightly in my way, calling me "Your Highness." A random thought pops into my head, of what amusing chaos it would be if a messenger came into this room, gasping for "Your Highness" because of some urgent message. There are quite a few princes and princesses here, and I believe the King and Queen of Charles made an appearance.  
I find my sister just finishing a conversation, rather mere gossip, with a Duchess of this-and-that (it's late, and I can't find it to remember so many noble names, titles, and places). I stand beside her. Genevieve has already danced with ten young men, and I had noticed her sharing a laugh with Roberto Button earlier, amid a lively dance. I don't know if she's entirely sober, but she isn't inappropriately, family-shaming intoxicated, either. Her cheeks are flushed, her green eyes sparkling. Perhaps I should send for Cyril and Petyr, and get her to bed, as well as I. For some reason, I'm already tired from tonight.  
"Genevieve, why don't we go to bed?" I suggest, and she looks at me as though I've lost my mind for a moment.  
"Oh, Elaine," She drawls, in an octave higher than her normal voice, "I'm not even tired." She shifts on her feet, and I take her hands, an idea to get her to retire forming.  
"Your feet must hurt, hmm? Not to mention your head. A little nap is all we're going to take, and you'll feel better."  
I've convinced her. Cyril and Petyr politely excuse us from the party, and I thank Zain along the way. Genevieve does as well, but I know if she hadn't been drinking, she wouldn't have kissed his cheek in thanks. Cyril does a remarkable job at helping Genevieve to her room, and it's not too apparent the future Queen of Astor is drunk, to outsiders. He keeps her entertained with meaningless chatter, and she tells him he's funny. Petyr sighs next to me, on my own arm, as he's escorting me, though I'm sober enough, since I did have a glass or two.  
"Ah, Petyr, I do hope you had a splendid time." He must have been asked to dance by one or two ladies. Petyr nods.  
"I do think parties aren't for butlers, if I may say so, Your Highness."  
Cyril opens Genevieve's door to her room to the right of us, and I stop at my door, unlinking my arm from my butler's.  
"I'm fine now, Petyr. Do tell the maid to come in, and Cyril," I turn to my sister's ginger servant, who just returned from sitting Genevieve on her bed. "Get two maids for my sister, and ask them if they can help her with a bath." That will sober her up, perhaps. I'll pay her a visit once that's over. The servants leave, and I step in my room.  
Soon enough, the same maid from before has helped me out of my formal wear, and even combed my hair down from my intricate, curled bun. She is quite gentle with it. I ask her name, so I can tell Zain she is excellent with her job. She modestly tells me her name is Sybil. I thank her, and bid her leave.  
When the door closes, I tie my robe over my silky nightdress, slipping on a pair of slippers to see my sister.  
However, when I make it out to the hall, I am startled.  
Prince Joshua, Crowned Prince of Dres Van, is out in the corridor, with purple pajamas. I might find that to be amusing, had I not almost shrieked in surprise.  
"A-are those, bunny slippers?" I manage to ask, and his expression changes from concerned, to embarrassed.  
"These were the doing of dear Prince Roberto." He mumbles, and pushes his hair back. "I was looking for his room, so he could kindly give me my slippers back."  
I smile weakly, preparing to enter my sister's room. "Aw, I do think they suit you, Prince Joshua."  
He is too surprised to give me an answer while I shut the door behind me to Genevieve's room.  
She's sleeping, but I still go to her bedside, smiling for some reason. Maybe it was because I noticed her exhaustion in the plane earlier. I do hope she enjoyed herself.  
I sneak out to the hall again, and Joshua is gone. Ah, I wonder if my slight tease would scare him away, along with my making him dance with someone else.  
These thoughts are still with me when I sink into bed.  
A prince in bunny slippers. What a silly thought.


	4. Chapter 4

The morning is met with a slight headache. I thought I slept off those few glasses of wine, but it seems as though they'll stick around for an hour or two. I ask for some aspirin with my morning cup of tea, and am told that my breakfast will be in the main dining room, along with the other royals that chose to accept Lord Michel's invitation. I nod, and tell Sybil I'll only take a while to shower.  
I dress in casual clothes, slacks with a feminine flare, a white blouse, a fitted grey jacket, a decorative scarf, and flats. My hair I leave to Sybil, I already trust her judgement with it. While she's pinning it half of my hair up, I ask a question.  
"Where did you learn to do hair so well?"  
The maid blushes modestly. "I used to want to work as a hairdresser, Your Highness." Hmm, I wonder what made her change career plans. I don't undermine servants, I believe what they do for nobility is in a way noble themselves. I do not ask any further questions, and let her finish. My brown hair, is now half-pulled up in a lovely style, still having some curl from the night before.  
I am shown the way to the dining room. Zain is the only butler in sight, so I take it that Cyril and Petyr are attending to Genevieve and I's preparations to leave. We weren't planning to stay for long, and my heart tugs to be home. A servant pulls out my chair for me, and I sit. The others seated at the table are the Prince Roberto, and Joshua, that I have been familiar with. Prince Wilfred of Philip sits at the left of Roberto, looking tired still, and Edward Levaincois is seated to the right of me. Glenn of Oriens is seated next to Joshua, and Prince Keith of the still-new country of Liberty, is seated at my left.  
"Good morning," I say to all, and note that my sister still must be in bed. The state she was in last night doesn't surprise me that this is the outcome. I receive some other "Good morning"s in reply, and soon make my breakfast plate, with eggs, toast, sausage, and some fruit. I don't feel too hungry this morning, but don't want to peck at my meal like a bird.  
The chatter isn't too much of chatter at all, mainly Roberto speaking with Wilfred, or smirking at a tease towards Joshua, who doesn't seem to want to hold a conversation with him. The interaction reminds me of something.  
"Oh, Prince Joshua, did you by any chance, get your slippers returned?" I ask, after getting a drink of juice in front of me. The prince's cheeks turn pink. Roberto seems interested in this news.  
"Ah, so you saw the pink bunny slippers, Princess Elaine? Don't you think they went well with his pajamas?" He smiles, and Joshua mutters something crossly at him. Prince Wilfred only seems half-interested in the conversation.  
"I did get my slippers back, however." Joshua speaks up, before taking a spoonful of some porridge that's popular in Charles. Edward smiles next to me.  
"Did you two bump into one another last night?" The silver-haired prince asked, eyes on me. I feel as though he's hinting at something, but I answer truthfully, seeing no need to tease poor Joshua further.  
"I happened to see him when he was trying to find Prince Roberto's room. I was going to talk with my sister."  
Roberto quirks up an eyebrow. "Speaking of Princess Genevieve, where is she?"  
I don't answer, yet I can't shrug my shoulders and act as if I don't know. I make up a white-lie, "I believe she was talking with my father, and took her breakfast in her room." Certainly Cyril or Petyr would have known to send up a tray for her. My statement comes true, at least, in a way, when I'm nearly finished with my meal. The chatter at the table had turned to some minor scandal that happened to a Lord and Lady in Altaria, with Roberto knowing the details. It wasn't anything too terrible, but enough to capture their attention.  
Petyr comes in, holding my personal cellphone. I had given it to him to hold onto, since I'm don't want to leave it around in a foreign place. He immediately apologizes for his intrusion.  
"Your Highness," He says, towards me, and I motion for him to continue. "Your mother wishes to speak with you, it's about immediate diplomatic business."  
I excuse myself from the table, saying it was nice to eat breakfast in the company of these princes, and I leave, heading out for the corridor. Petyr hands me my phone, and I tell him to stay with me, in case sudden changes to my schedule are made.  
"Mother," I speak, standing in a position that won't hurt my feet if I'll be speaking for too long. "Petyr told me this was urgent. What is it?"  
"Elaine, I know your plans are entirely much for this week, or this month, really, my dear," I can almost see her at her desk, where she did her own work, with her servants, and assistants around her. I honestly don't have a busy schedule, for once, only with some small events and such. "Also, your sister's schedule is, by opposition, rather full. My point being, I need you to take the responsibility of renewing the a trading contract."  
I see where this is going. Diplomatic issues. A trading contract won't be too much of a problem. "Of course, Mother. I'll have it taken to-where must this contract be renewed?"  
"One of our allies, dear. Dres Van. It seems that Prince Joshua will be the one to approve of it."  
I hesitate. Dres Van isn't a far-off country, it's merely a few hours' drive from Nobel Michel. And it's just a few more hours on a plane to Astor, to home. I accept, for my mother. "I'll see to it that it's done. The papers have already been sent for me, correct?" My mother tells me that they are, and reminds me I musn't leave until I know they are safe with me, even though I already know so. I tell her I love her, and that I will see her within a few days. Genevieve will be leaving to see her today.  
"Petyr, you will probably have been sent the changes to my schedule. See to it that we find a car to Dres Van."  
I close my phone, and hand it to him. Petyr leaves, going to tell Cyril of the new plan for today. I inspect the view from the window in the corridor. Nobel Michel is as pretty as it is outside. There are still a few reporters loitering around the gates and the like. One or two perk up at the sight of a princess in the window, even though it's still too far away for a good picture. I smile, but close the curtains.  
"I've heard that you've made plans to visit Dres Van?" A voice says behind me. I am surprised, even though I know who it is.  
Prince Joshua is standing next to me, with a curious expression on his face. I confirm what Petyr must have told him. "Yes, there are some papers that are to be signed. I hope I wouldn't cause a problem."  
He simply shakes his head. "If it's on business, there isn't any problem." However, I get the feeling there aren't too many visitors to his palace in Dres Van. Just the way he carries himself, and how he fairs around people. I still hope to acquaint myself with him, since it's been a long time since I've had people to consider good friends in nobility, unfortunately. "Do you have a way of getting there, yet?"  
I shake my head. His offer is what makes me smile. He is indeed a good person. "I suppose there wouldn't be any trouble with letting you ride in my car. Along with your butler, if you intend to take him." Joshua says, peering half-interested at the window.  
"Thank you very much. I'll accept that offer." I say, bowing my head, slightly.  
Joshua takes his leave, giving me the time he intends to leave, since he apparently has a word or two to speak with Lord Michel.  
I make my way to see how my sister is. I find Genevieve in a good state, though with a terrible achy head. Mine disappeared when I ate my breakfast. She seems happy for me to do something for Mother, and says she and Cyril will leave today, as well. She'll definitely have to hide her eyes from the cameras, otherwise there would be immediate, exaggerated rumors that would stretch the truth and say something absurd, like "The Future Queen's Struggle with Alcohol." Reporters seem to adore making things up as such. I have a sense of dislike for them, but I also think they do most of what they do because they have to make a living.  
"Don't have too much fun without me." Genevieve says, smiling, as she makes her way to leave Nobel Michel. It's the middle of the afternoon, but she still carries herself as though she's tired. I hug her lightly, and Cyril helps her to the car, cameras flashing, but only capturing regular photos. Nothing that will be plastered over the news.  
I wait an hour before I leave with Prince Joshua, having spent my time telling Zain that Sybil was particularly kind, and she is wonderful. The photos of Joshua and I being escorted out to the car together, might be of interest to the media, but there would soon be a statement of business from my father or mother, making the hasty reports of an "engagement" or even a "fling" between Joshua and I, fizzle out.  
The car ride is what I expect, almost sadly, from Joshua. He is distant, with few words. Jan, his butler, is kind enough to inform me that I have a room prepared in the Dres Van palace. I thank him, and even thank Prince Joshua, who returns it with a simple, "It's simply mannerly conduct."  
I have a feeling my time at Dres Van won't be too eventful. I'll certainly be home within two days, as this matter is nothing to take too much time over. However, I do plan on talking with Joshua more, and not all words had to be tied to diplomacy.


	5. Chapter 5

The contract for trading came in a envelope with the seal of Astor on the front. I kept it beside me during the car ride, and I had it set on the dresser in the room I slept in, all night. Now, the same envelope is taken from me at breakfast, by Jan. Our official meeting will have to be after breakfast, it seems. I ask that he be especially cautious with it.

My attention is brought to my breakfast. I'm eating with Prince Joshua, who hardly noticed my appearance, as he was reading a newspaper. I don't exactly approve, but my mother never allowed my father to being work with him, even if he was King. He wasn't allowed to skip meals to work on business, either. Multiple servants would hide their chuckles when my father was chided for it. I giggled at it myself, when I was younger.

Now I feel like my mother, but I bite back what I want to say, and eat my breakfast, an omelette fixed as though it came from my own home's kitchens. Petyr may have had a say in it.

The silence is near maddening. Joshua hasn't touched his food. Perhaps I could get away with picking at that.

"Prince Joshua, I don't think you should waste your mealtime reading a newspaper." I say, one of my hands holding my fork at the side of my plate, the other in my lap, clutching at my napkin. I hope he won't be the type to snap at me.

"I do have to keep up with the happenings of the world, you know." Joshua responds, and I let out a breath through my nose, slightly disappointed. I do end up noticing that afterwards, he took a few bites from his plate, and a smile hints on my face.

Breakfast is finished soon afterwards. I've noticed that my eyes have begun to water, and I try not to rub at them too much. Since the contract meeting is to begin in only a little while, I go off in search of Petyr. I find him in a corridor, speaking into his own cell phone. He seems agitated, and sighs after hanging up.

"Princess Elaine." He is startled at my appearance, but I assure him I'm fine, I just need to find my contact case and glasses. He helps me find them in my luggage, and I exchange my contacts for a pair of black, wire-rimmed glasses. I haven't worn them in some time, normally when I have papers to fill out, I'll wear them.

I head for the room where our meeting will conduct, followed by Petyr.

It's an office-it must be Prince Joshua's. Jan is holding the envelop with the Astorian seal on it, and hands it to me. Joshua seems intrigued at me wearing glasses, but I don't say a word about them, only get straight to business, pulling out the papers.

"This is simply a trade renewal contract, enforcing our agreements to each other about exports, imports, and that sort of thing." I scan over the papers (I already know what they must say) and hold them out. "All they need is your signature, Prince Joshua." And then I can head home. I rather miss my own room, though it's bound to have been redecorated again. It's the palace custom to change the bedspreads and such with the seasons.

He takes it gently, and asks Jan for one of the ballpoint pens from his desk. However, Prince Joshua takes time to read some things, ask a few questions, that I'm grateful I know the answers efficiently enough. It's over in less than an hour, the papers approved and signed, and they're back in my hands.

"Ah, glad this wasn't too much of a hassle." I say, on my way out of the office. It looks as though Prince Joshua planned on staying in his office with the other work he has, but Jan informs him of a few guests.

"Your Highness, I apologize for not informing you earlier. But, it seems as Prince Roberto and Prince Wilfred came for a visit."

Though I'm surprised by the other two prince's appearances, it seems that Joshua is used to it-annoyed by it, but accustomed to their "visits." "Where are they now?" He asks, standing up. His butler informs him he had them wait out in the courtyard.

"I'll tell him to leave," Joshua pauses by me at the door, "Would you mind accompanying me to see those two fools?"

The jest makes me smile, though it was unkind. "I wouldn't mind seeing Prince Wilfred and Prince Roberto again." I follow him out to the courtyard, but as we near outdoors, I let out a sneeze. Joshua asks if I'm alright.

"I think. Though my eyes were bothering me this morning-I just supposed it was my contacts." I feel my eyes water, and a handkerchief is given to me. He doesn't say a word about it though, merely hands it to me.

Prince Roberto and Prince Wilfred are both kneeling around something on the ground, near a bench in the courtyard.

"What on Earth..." Joshua says as we near them. Roberto turns around, just as I sneeze again. Then, I see in his arms, he's holding kittens. I grab Joshua's arm, and he stiffens.

"I'm-I'm allergic to cats." I sneeze again, and Joshua registers the two princes have found a litter of kittens playing in the courtyard. He takes a step back.

"Oh, do tell me you're still not afraid of kitties, are you, Joshua?" Roberto says, giving the kitten a scratch on the head. They'd be cute if they weren't making my eyes water terribly, and my nose itch. "Princess Elaine, I didn't think you'd be here." I'm holding the handkerchief up to my nose.

"Prince Joshua, if you would take me back into the castle-" I'm desperate to be rid of those felines. Joshua answers quickly enough that his fear of cats must indeed be real, and not just another tease from Roberto.

"Of course, Princess Elaine." He and I go off at an equal pace. I wipe at my eyes under my glasses, now not holding unto the prince anymore. That must have what made my allergies act up. The mother cat may have made her presence known outside of the palace walls, since the windows were open.

"You're alright, aren't you?" Joshua asks, eyes not on me, probably embarrassed and awkward over his silly fear of cats. Although, I haven't the room to talk, I can't even pick one up.

Roberto and Wilfred soon join us in one of the main corridors. I hope they weren't shed on or anything. Roberto seems amused at the new knowledge of my allergy. I have my arms crossed defensively.

"Isn't this grand, Joshua and his maiden, both having an aversion to cats. Brilliant, don't you think, Wills?" Roberto turns to his blond companion, who opens his mouth.

"Don't call me 'Wills', Roberto."

Joshua is silent, eyes hard at the comment of my being his "maiden." So childish, Roberto making such assumptions. "Prince Roberto, is there any given reason you're here? I suppose you dragged Prince Wilfred along." I'm not in the mood, besides, I'm to leave Dres Van on a plane for Astor tonight, since my work here, though it was light work, is done.

Roberto doesn't respond to my stern tone. "I come here to check up on dear Joshua. He doesn't get out much-rather like an old woman, except, you know, with the hatred of cats."

Joshua fixes his eyes on a portrait behind Roberto. "I don't hate cats. I just find them...odd. And strange." He says nothing more on the topic. I unfold my arms, and prepare to excuse myself, but am stopped by another statement from Roberto.

"Now, may we learn why you're here, in Dres Van, Elaine?" He smiles. "Joshua, you weren't playing a villain, and kidnapping princesses, were you?"

I put an end to his childishness. "I had a trade renewal contract from Astor, to be approved. And, now that it's done, I'm going home tonight."

Roberto then lets me go, but I can almost hear his continuation of teasing Joshua. Such a boy.

My farewell to Joshua is brief, but thankfully, Roberto and Wilfred left sometime before. I thank him, and Jan, for their kindness. Joshua hesitates before doing so, but does brush a kiss on my hand.

"It was an honor, Princess Elaine." He says, dully, but I smile, anyway. Petyr has my things already prepared for the airport, but I did end up wearing my glasses all day.

"I look forward to our next meeting, Prince Joshua. Dres Van really is a pretty place." Our good-byes said, I leave.

We've only been in the car mere moments before my cell-phone goes off. Petyr hands it, and my handbag so I can keep it with me, to me, and I answer. It is who I expected, Genevieve, seeing how Dres Van was.

"Uneventful, but I guess I enjoyed myself. There were cats in the courtyard, though. I had to wear my glasses." Thinking of them, I push them up on the bridge of my nose.

"Was Prince Joshua kind?" Genevieve asks, sounding cheery. I wonder if she's enjoying herself at home.

"Yes, I think so. He's not too talkative, but he's not unpleasant to be around." I can almost feel her smiling.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Elaine, there's to be a meeting of the Heirs of the nations, next month, at Nobel Michel. I will be attending, but there's also a party afterwards. You can be my guest."

Lord Michel must be fond of parties. Then again, to hold a conference with the nations' future monarchs, he must hold a lot of power. And parties aren't much to people with power like that. I'd like to meet this man, one day. Maybe my new curiosity in the Lord of Nobel Michel is what makes me agree to my sister's invitation.

Although, I did say I would look forward to seeing Prince Joshua again.

I fall asleep when we are settled on the plane, thinking about parties, and cats, for some reason.


	6. Chapter 6

I've been at home, in Astor, for two weeks now, and it's both splendid and sort of boring to remain here. My schedule is anything but cluttered, Petyr tells me every morning what is expected, and more than not it's just recreational activities that the palace provides. I play tennis with Genevieve when I get the chance. I talk over flowers with the gardener. I ride my horse on the weekends. The only thing close to diplomatic I've done was being present at the opening of an orphanage, which I've been overseeing the construction of since I was nineteen. That put me in good spirits, but I soon caught a cold thereafter.

The week before the meeting, and party, I'm in a fitness craze. Instead of jogging about outside, since it's not proper for me to show off my skin, in a tanktop and athletic shorts, I'm in the gym we have in the lower part of the palace, running on a treadmill, going over some government studies' books. I have to have something to occupy my mind while I jog, run, and sprint for half an hour. There's a TV in here, along with some servants who keep me in check with timers, and sports drinks. I didn't want a trainer, even though my mother said it was, of course, not a problem. My father, however, argued that such people are wasting away what could be valuable, productive careers. He's not in the best of moods, since there have been countless petitions and outcries from our subjects over some bill that was passed over the military.

In fact, that is just what the news woman has finished speaking about when she turns to the next matter of business. I ask for the volume to be turned up, multi-tasking with reading on Parliment, and listening.

"Royals from allied countries of Astor, have already begun their stay at Nobel Michel." The woman pauses, pursing her too-red lips. I cringe inwardly at the lipstick choice. However, I am drawn to the footage rolling of a few familiar Princes arriving at the palace, Prince Roberto even waving at the cameras. Prince Joshua is walking up the steps beside him, dressed handsomely in a suit, though he has that cool aura about him. He is certainly not the one for cameras, though his facial features are far from unappealing.

"Among those already arrived, we have Prince Roberto of Altaria, Prince Keith of Liberty, and Prince Joshua of Dres Van. Our countries own Crown Princess, Her Highness Genevieve, will be attending, her sister, Princess Elaine, escorting." I almost think the woman is done speaking, but she smiles at the camera, reading off last month's tabloid. A feeling of dread washes over me.

"For those still not caught up on the Royal Gossip, there have been rumors about Princess Elaine, and Dres Van's heir to the throne, Prince Joshua. Some can't help but wonder if that's the true reason, Princess Elaine is escorting her sister. Last month, was the "almost-anniversary" of what would have been the wedding of Princess Elaine, and Sir Frederick D'Aubigne."

My chest tightens, and I blame the treadmill. I want this woman to shut her oily-rogue mouth, but she won't.

"Is this a sign of hope for a romance that will keep, for our Princess Elaine? Let us hope so. Back to you, Gr-"

I slam my hand on the power button, on the remote that's in the treadmill's cup holder. The servants in the room rush towards me, feeling my upset mood.

"Your Highness, might you take a break?" A soft-spoken maid asks, and I sigh, and nod, slowing it down to a walk, finally turning off the machine. I worked up a light sheen of sweat.

"I'm off to take a shower; you, kindly set out some casual clothes for me." I say, to one of the servant girls, who nods and sets off behind me. My irritation fades when I finish my shower. Now, I'm just thinking, about none other than Prince Joshua. What on Earth does he think of the rumors? I just find them silly, but really, my unsettled feelings come from the fact that there is always mention of my almost marriage.

You can't simply erase past events, but if it were the case, I would have worn down my pencil's eraser on that moment of my life.

The meeting of the heirs arrives, and my sister and I arrive at Nobel Michel, dressed finely. I have my hair down, not pinned up, in chocolate curls, and I'm in a light purple gown, my sister dressed in brighter colors, shades of pink, with a sash around her, to indicate her title as the Crown Princess. I follow behind Astor's future monarch on the grand steps of the palace, camera flashes behind me.

The foyer of the castle is as beautiful as I remember it. Zain is greeting with gracious bows, as the princes are lead to a room. My sister will be joining them soon. The guests are invited to attend tea and such, and I'm caught up in conversations with nobles, smiling, nodding, answering questions. No one brings up any such rumors to my face, but I know what it's like to leave a table, only to have someone whisper something about me.

Two hours of this, resulting in me following servers around, asking to try little cakes, sugar twists, and delicate sweets of the sort, and the meeting finally finishes. I'm caught at a bad moment by Genevieve, while I'm popping cream cakes into my mouth in a corner, and not in any royal fashion.

"Elaine, you look so undignified." I can feel the sigh she's suppressing while I turn around, cheeks full. I swallow, the sweetness leaving its taste in my mouth.

"Oh, sister, I was just so bored of talking. And, I can't seem to escape newscast rumors, here." Not that I should have expected as such, but still. Refuge would be more than heavenly once in a while. I wipe my hands mannerly on a napkin, noticing everyone exiting towards the ballroom.

"Ah, we need escorts." I state, looking about. I don't want to be stuck with an old man, however kind he might be. Genevieve grabs my wrist, the cool of her white gloved hand, sending a chill up my arm.

"Don't worry, I've got this handled." Genevieve leads me to Prince Roberto, and Prince Joshua. Suddenly, my mood lightens at the sight of him. Genevieve smiles, and takes Prince Roberto's arm.

"Prince Joshua, how nice it is to see you again." I bow my head, and he returns it, offering his arm afterwards.

"To you as well, Princess Elaine."

A man of few words, still. The ballroom is still as magnificently done as it was before. I don't feel like dancing today, though. Even if it's with Joshua. The dancing, in fact, is being lead by Genevieve and Prince Roberto, who is being eyed by a small trope of young women. My lips curve in a smile-Roberto really is a ladies' man.

"Prince Joshua, I really would like to find a table. I'm not in the mood for dancing." I must have said it in a way that concerns him, because Joshua takes my hand, and looks around in case anyone is specifically watching us.

"Let's step outside, then, for some fresh air." He leads me out of the hall, carefully making sure we aren't being followed. I wonder if it will come to anyone's attention that we aren't in the ballroom, but curiosity and relief to get out of there gets the best of me.

Joshua stops when we make it outside, to a fountain in the courtyard of Nobel Michel. He hesitantly takes a seat, and I follow suit. The sound of the water is calming, and I, for some reason, find myself smiling at the reflection of the moon on the water's surface. However, the thought of the news and its rumors makes it to my head again.

"Ah, Prince Joshua, I appreciate your kindness, but..." I begin, but he cuts me off in a voice a tone sterner than his usual one.

"I read the newspapers, Princess Elaine. I know you're worried about being told you're in a relationship with me." Joshua's cheeks seem a shade pink, but I mindlessly blame it on the lights from the windows. "Honestly, there have been worse things said about you. Even though I, myself..." He trails off, the pink hue darkening, and it confirms that he was, indeed, blushing.

"You, what, Your Highness?" I raise an eyebrow, but the Prince of Dres Van ignores my questioning and glances up at the night sky, and I find my own eyes turning up to do the same.

"Beautiful." I hear Joshua's whisper a few heartbeats later, and for some reason, I don't believe he's talking about the stars.

This blossom of happiness, rather a secret I keep to myself, because I don't question him about it, stays with me throughout the night, even once we return to the grandness of the ballroom, and find ourselves parting again.

I can't help but feel like I'm happy again, with a man.


	7. Chapter 7

It's raining outside, the water streaking across the window. I'm in my office, the one room in the palace I absolutely loathe to be in, because it means papers, and papers, and on and on. My wardrobe today reflects the weather, shades of dark blue, grey, and black. I turn my gaze away from the window, to sign my name again on a line, with a pen that already feels too heavy in my hand, and has been for quite some time. I lean back in my chair, pushing up my frames on the bridge of my nose, and setting the pen down. What I would give for some hot tea, I think, and call for Petyr, who brings me a tray, to find me staring out the window.

"Taking a break, Your Highness?" He asks. I can hear the soft clinks of the china behind me, as I simply stare out into the view of our vast "backyard", thankful that at least my boring office has a view of what I love. The stables are out of sight, to the right somewhere, but you could still see the groves of trees we have. The "forest" I used to call it. Past it, are vineyards, where farmers grow the grapes that are specifically used in Astor's royal family wine. I remember being taken there, once, when I was around twelve years of age. I liked the smell of red wine, in those barrels we were shown. I was even allowed a sip, and I remember my father's throaty chuckle when I made a face at, what was then, a vile and strong taste of alcohol.

Lost in my memories, I don't answer Petyr, only being brought back when I hear him setting my saucer and cup on my desk. I turn, and he inquires something again.

"Princess Elaine, are you finding everything to your liking here?"

At first, his question puzzles me. Of course, Astor is my home. I love to be here. Genevieve and I returned just a few days ago from Nobel Michel. I don't know what the paparazzi thought about my dissappearance from the party with Prince Joshua, and remembering Joshua's words, I've come to think that I don't care to know.

Searching for a way to answer Petyr's question to his liking, I remember a certain maid from Nobel Michel. Sybil, the one who could do my hair so perfectly well. For some reason, I say that.

"I'd like for a new maid to be put on staff." I state, sitting back down at my desk, taking my tea. Petyr looks at me quizzically-did I answer his question properly or not?

"Of course, Miss Elaine." He nods, and hesitates before asking if I have anyone in particular in mind. So, I write out a note addressed to Lord Michel, even Zain being mentioned in it, about coveting Sybil's assistance at my palace. That being done, I send Petyr on his way, and keep my eyes from the papers I'm just shy from finishing for today. Instead, my eyes are drawn to the books that line the wall. Government, history books, not all covering the history of Astor, but some on our allies.

My chocolate-colored eyes find themselves staring at a book spine with the title written about the country of Dres Van. I feel an urge to read it, but what's holding me back is the fact what others would think of my reading that specific book on that specific country. However, I get up to go to the bookshelf, and take the book, studying it in my hands. I set it near my cup of tea, fix my glasses, and read my papers, the pen that was so heavy before, back in my hands.

Petyr finds me a few hours later, to call me for lunch, reading this volume on Dres Van. It's been rather interesting so far-except, I've learned something about royal upbringing.

"Miss Elaine, lunch has been prepared." He addresses me, and I nod, marking my page, and standing up. However, a question is on my mind.

"Petyr, what do you know about Dres Van royalty?" I ask, casually, headed for the door, that he's holding open for me. He glances at me as I go past him, into the corridor.

"As much as I need to. Is there anything I can assist you with?"

I hesitate, but only for a moment. "Is it true that those of royalty, are raised without their parents around?"

Petyr's answer takes some time. "Yes, Your Highness. It's simply tradition, and it teaches the child, usually the eldest, about being independent. Something along those lines."

I pity Prince Joshua for that fact. I know I shouldn't, as pity is something I know far too well, but I do. Perhaps that is why he's entirely too stand-offish to people. I suppose nothing can be done about tradition, and I thank Petyr for confirming it, though there weren't any doubts in the book's honesty.

Dres Van is a country of tradition. I already knew that, and I wonder why I'm dotting on that fact. I muddle over these thoughts into lunch, into dinner, even at my bed, for I've brought the book with me. Perhaps I'm just curious about the country Joshua is to one day be ruling monarch of.

This is the first time I wonder who will be ruling at his side.


	8. Chapter 8

Genevieve has beaten me in tennis, again. I groan, leaning my head back and twirling my racket. She laughs across the net, and I manage to smile at her, and fix the hat I have on my head. Petyr calls out if I need a drink of water, and I walk near where he's at the table. My mother's watching us, having found an empty spot in her schedule. I myself, am surprised Genevieve's not busy. In nine months, nine months that will go by more quickly than we anticipate, will be her coronation, only a day after her birthday. Thinking of the months ahead, I remember it's next month, on the thirteenth, that is my birthday. I will be turning twenty-three.

My mother's ever faithful servant rushes over and says that my mother wishes to see me. I nod, handing the bottle back to Petyr. Genevieve looks up for another round, though.

"Petyr, try your hand at tennis." I say, handing him my racket. He looks at me, startled at such a suggestion, his blue eyes widening.

"Your Highness, I couldn't possibly-not in my-"

I raise an eyebrow, not being harsh in the slightest, but knowing Petyr wouldn't go against me. "Think of it as a royal suggestion." I say, leaving him to bound up to the net and explain to Genevieve, who is more than happy to play my butler, in his suit. Thankfully, he's taken off his jacket, so he doesn't look like too much of a fool.

I head for my mother, who, even in a feminine pantsuit, still has the regal look that reminds me of the portraits of the many generations of Lefford. Genevieve's namesake was a Mad Queen in the 18th century. I always found that fact amusing. She's sitting at a table, shaded, of course, a Queen can't burn. There are a few maids around, but my mother bids them leave when I take a seat across from her.

"Mother." I say, crossing my ankles. She's fanning herself, only glancing at the match between Genevieve and Petyr, her gaze turning stern for a moment, and then back to me.

"Elaine, I was simply wondering if you're in the mood for shopping."

Shopping? My mother, Queen Clarice Anne Joan Lefford of Astor, called me over to ask if I wanted to go shopping?

"What on Earth do you mean?" I ask, not hiding my confusion, and earning a chuckle and a wide smile from my mother. She shifts in her seat.

"For your birthday dress, my dear. Of course, all the selections will be brought here. Do you remember the Mister Edmund Carver of the design company, Jean Pierre?"

I remember the handsome designer-in-training well. After the Incident, he apologized profusely, saying he'd refuse any payment for the dress, and he'd tell Jean Pierre that himself if he had to. I shook my head, and surprised my mother by saying that I wanted the dress given to a bride that couldn't afford one, or perhaps a woman down at the courthouse, waiting to be eloped. Someone should have a happy ending in that dress.

I pull myself away from those memories surrounding that piece of history, that's engraved in my very soul, it seems. "Yes, I remember him well." I say, hearing Genevieve's amused laughter behind me. I think Petyr must be huffing his way through the match, and imagine him bounding all over court in his three-piece suit, his white dress shirt probably rolled up to his elbows.

My mother takes a sip of her lemonade, pressing burgundy lips to the glass, not leaving a stain at all, as though her lipstick knows to stay on. After setting down her glass just so, she continues. "It seems he's launched a new line of clothing, doing well in the business. Well, I thought that you would perhaps enjoy the style of some of those gowns. And, with that new maid of yours," Sybil had been more than happy to work for me, and steadily is growing to be my favorite maid. It seems she's loosened up a bit, and I let her talk to me about hairstyles, "-we won't have to worry too terribly much about stylists, correct?"

I nod at my mother. "Correct." She tells me the date I'm to have my dress selections sent, and I thank my mother, tell her I love her, and I leave, immediately amused by the sight of a Petyr with sweat on his brow, breathing hard, chest rising and falling as though it's a burden, as he shakes hands with Genevieve, who insisted they did. He comes up to me, and tries to stay true to his mannerisms.

"Your Highness..." He says, and I take his arm, and for once, he doesn't protest mine helping him to a chair. Honestly, Petyr would probably think it an honor to be beaten by a future monarch.

I head up to the net where Genevieve is waiting, in her light blue tennis top and white skirt, contrasting only with my lime green top. She looks as though that was the easiest task in the world, and it probably highly entertained her.

"That's quite the butler you have there. I've never seen someone miss so many times." She smiles, and I return it, noting the contrast in Petyr and Genevieve, he, being exhausted; and her, feeling refreshed.

"So, he was love in all the way through, huh?" I say, wording it just so. Genevieve tells me he got one point on her, but it was only because she had been laughing at him.

The sporting fun ends, and I end up in my room, reading a novel that probably would make my mother frown upon me, but I've been thinking about a certain prince, and wondering where my emotions are leading me. Joshua Lieben. I enjoy spending time with him. I find him handsome. Yet, still, I don't want to feel as though I'm rushing into anything, throwing myself at someone, such as the supposed "heroine" of this novel seems to be doing.

I set the book aside, and call in for Sybil. One reason I like being close with maids, is that they keep up with palace gossip. I, for one, would like to know what my guest list looks like, since I haven't taken a peek at it at all. I know most will be relatives, even though, with family, I'm probably not as close with them as one would be with their family, as a non-royal would be.

"What is it that you need, Your Highness?" Sybil bows slightly. I get up, tying the belt on my silk dressing robe, one that was given to me as a gift when Genevieve and I visited with a certain Eastern Asian country.

"I was wondering, Sybil, and this will only be kept between the two of us," I state, walking about my room, headed for my window, where I stand and place both my palms on the windowsill. "Has there been any talk at all, over the matter of who will be attending my birthday celebration?"

Sybil hesitates, before nodding. "I know that a few bachelors will be attending, specially for you. I heard from Johanna, a kitchen servant," She explains, and continues, "That one is a son of some Duke, but I've mainly been hearing about princes. Specifically..." She slows down, and takes a gulp. I am already preparing myself for the worst, if it's even that.

"Prince Joshua Lieben, Your Highness."

I should have expected so. I keep my composure, and thank Sybil, sending her on her way, because I want some time to think. Joshua, of course. My mother probably doesn't disapprove of him, as she might have someone such as Roberto Button, a frivolous boy, wanting to be a man. My father couldn't disapprove, as he's the type to think disapproval of a prince could be taken as offensive to the monarch parents, and cause something more disagreeable than a relationship.

I pad about my room for awhile more, thinking, just thinking, and finally come to a conclusion that what happens between Joshua and I, isn't even anywhere near a romantic relationship, and even if it does come to that, there's no point in saying that it may turn out like Fredrick and I. Though, I let Fredrick go, because even though my heart ached for long after that, I knew I didn't love him. What hurt me was that I wanted to love him. I couldn't harp on this forever, but some days I wanted to stick all the blame on it.

I don't cry out of frustration or sadness, thinking about this, and I haven't in a long time. Instead, I brighten my mood, thinking that soon, I will simply be a young woman, having fun, exchanging laughs, and a drink or two, on her birthday.

Like everyone else.

Edmund Carver is of a simple elegance, as I remember him. All black, fashionable clothing, quite a contrast to the dresses he has on display, in a room in the palace, for me. Upon meeting him today, he bowed and kissed my hand. Now, he is telling me about each dress.

"Did you design these yourself, Mister Carver?" I ask, in awe of a gown that shines with the delicate beads the overskirt has. He modestly nods.

"I still work for Jean Pierre, Your Highness, but, now I'm higher up, of course." He says, whilst I study the gown, deciding, in the long run, that I don't care for it, at least not for a simple party, as I asked for my celebration to be. I look at other dresses, feeling indecisive. A pink, chiffon dress with fabric flowers lining the waist, and collar, seems too sugary for my taste. A red gown with long sleeves and a high collar is turned down as well, and others, until I feel certain on one.

It's floor-length, black lace, with a nude underskirt, with a floral applique and bead embellishments. The bustier is close-fitted and covered with a black, sheer laced top. It's sophisticated, and yet, sultry at the same time. I adore it, and I choose that gown for my party. [x]

"Care for a fitting?" Mr. Carver asks, but I shake my head.

"I'd like to be surprised at how perfectly it fits." I smile, knowing that these dresses were probably exactly made in my measurements, knowing him. I end the appointment, thank Edmund for bringing up the gowns and the like, and head out, with Petyr waiting for me in the hall.

"Did you find everything to your liking, Your Highness?" Petyr asks, and I nod, thinking of my dress again. A girlish thought pops up in my mind. What will Joshua think of it?

"Tell Sybil that I would like to go over make-up, and hair-styling for my event." I say, coming up with a task that will busy my mind. Eye-shadow coordination and such isn't much to keep my mind from Dres Vanese princes, but it's enough.

I'm beginning to wonder how on Earth am I to stay sane, if all that's taking over my thoughts has something to do with Joshua Lieben. I feel as though I'm going to go insane, and yet, I still say that I'm not falling for him, that this is a passing interest. However, just the very fact that I can't stop thinking over him, proves otherwise.

I'll probably deny it to the end, the stubborn woman I am.


	9. Chapter 9

The weeks leading up to my birthday are busy, as they have been nearly every year. Last year's, though, was spent in a different country, with Genevieve, since I traveled with her on diplomatic matters.

This year is the same, for my sister, at least. She's called time and time again, saying she'll return to Astor soon, for me. I say I won't hold it against her if it turns out she can't make it, but in my heart I know I want her to be there. I don't think I've had a spare moment to myself, because I'm actually busy after a hiatus from business. Charities seem to be my responsibility, and I don't mind. There's even a picture of myself, with a gorgeous golden retriever from the time I paid a volunteer visit to a shelter, in this newspaper I'm reading at my office desk. For once I'm not wearing my glasses.

Tomorrow, I will be twenty-three. Birthdays to me aren't entirely a too big deal, until I near thirty and do the silly worrying over becoming an old maid. Unmarried at thirty. Would I already have little nieces and nephews, running around the palace that, by that time, will be ran by Queen Genevieve? Aunt Elaine, Princess of Lefford, still without a husband. I can't even be a stereotypical cat woman, unless I want to sneeze myself to death. Who would my sister marry? For I know that she has quite the pick from many handsome suitors. My mind thinks fleetingly of Petyr- but, a butler can't be a Sir or a Prince. Not that I carry that mindset, if Genevieve loved a grocer or some shopkeeper, I wouldn't mind at all if she married him. It's my parents that would need persuasion.

My thoughts of Petyr perhaps being my dear brother-in-law are just coming to an end when there is a rapping on my door.

"You can come in." I answer, eyes focusing on the words in print again, instead of ignoring them and letting my mind wander. Petyr steps in, and takes time to bow.

"Your Highness, I have word that your sister has landed safely in Astor."

I smile, and stand up out of my chair, taking a moment to stretch and then fixing my suit jacket. "Thank you, Petyr. I'd like to be taken to her room, please. I want to speak to her as quickly as I can." Nothing dire, just sisterly talk. Yes, my intended conversation piece will be over the one and only, Crown Prince Joshua Lieben. Still, I feel as though we are but friends, but I can't help but think about further progression in our relationship.

I'm sitting on Genevieve's fresh bedspread when she herself opens the door to her room, servants behind her carrying luggage.

"Elaine!" She cries, delighted, and goes over to hug me, and I grin at her, still seated upon the bed. She joins me, speaking of this and that about her journey. She's been in the rather sandy, sunny and hot kingdom of Shaharazal, and apparently has some gifts for me.

Genevieve hasn't let me get to what I want to talk to her about just yet, and she sends away the servants so she can show me her presents herself. She's digging through a trunk of all things when I open my mouth.

"Genevieve, did you know that Prince Joshua was invited?" Maybe it's a dumb question, as I know that many, many guests are here simply for diplomacy. I won't be surprised to find other princes or royals there, of course, but I just wonder if my mother, or father even, added his name knowing of what the media thinks he and I's relationship is already.

"Of course, I did. Dres Van is an ally, as I said." She stands, holding some vibrant fabric in her hand. "Stand up, I want to see if this color is good for you."

I do as she says, and the gift she has for me is close to a sari, in shades of bright pink and gold. It is lovely, and I can see that Genevieve probably enjoyed wearing clothes such as these while on her visit.

"It'll be lovely on you, you should wear it when we have an event with Shaharazal. It would be appreciated, I think." I'm slightly annoyed that Genevieve hasn't caught on to my interest of the guest list. I turn sharply, and she pulls back the fabric she had been holding up over my clothes, just to see how the fabric matched my skin tone and such.

"Don't you see why I ask this? Do you know what they say of Prince Joshua and I?" I say, folding my arms over each other. My sister wraps up the fabric and tosses it to her bed.

"Elaine, I've been told I was beautiful, but I've never been told I was stupid." Genevieve says, "Of course I know of the rumors- and they're simply that. Rumors, sister dear. If you want to have Prince Joshua as a...lover, or whatnot, I don't care."

I sigh, beginning to pace. "I have thought of feelings for Joshua, but I simply don't know right now."

My sister shrugs, and sits on her bed once more. "You've had suitors before, even before...well, you know this feeling. You just need more time, that's all. If you fall in love with him," Her lips curve in a smile, "I can't say I'll be surprised."

My birthday began fairly as usual. At breakfast, my father and mother both kiss me on the cheek, though my mother sweetly spoke of when I was a little girl, and my father laughing jovially at when I was but a toddler, and I would cry and cry until I could be placed on my father's knee, while he sat on his throne during Court sessions. Only then would I be quietened. I smile and laugh at such stories and then my day truly begins, and since I've got a streak in me to be stubborn, I want to see how the party preparations are going.

Cyril, my sister's servant, who really is a happy soul, tells me that he shall escort me for the overseeing.

"Mister Petyr has fallen ill, he tells me." Cyril's cheeks turn the slightest bit of pink, and I can see it making the freckles on his cheeks stand out. Something is amiss- Cyril must have told a lie, to cover for Petyr- Petyr, of all people. I do not anger at being told a lie, simply because I'm royal. Petyr is honorable, and perhaps I'll voice my questions to him later.

I only thank Cyril for telling me, and am lead to the ballroom, where they've set up the placing for the cake already. The Lefford's royal family crest is part of many of the decorations. I fold my arms, not displeased in anyway- actually with a smile on my face. Twenty-three is not a bad age, and parties, as I've thought before, are really quite fun.

The cake, I'm told profusely, is definitely something I can't see. Instead, Cyril asks if I would like to meet with Mister Carver, whom has been invited to my party. I made sure of this, as I'm sure he would love to see his gown being worn in person.

Edmund Carver is speaking politely with my mother when I find him where the palace accepts visitors.

"Mister Carver." I greet, holding out my hand, and he kissing it. It's then I notice the ring on his left hand. "Ah, I never realized you were married." I speak aloud, not exactly meaning to, but it earns a smile from the designer.

"Nearly a year, Your Highness. Sophie, my wife, will be on my arm tonight." He already speaks of her kindly. It makes my heart swell. Only then do I turn to my mother.

"Mother, aren't you busy?"

I nearly think I've offended her, but I earned a clipped smile, and she reaches out to stroke the ends of my hair. "Dear, it's your birthday. I do try to take lightly when it's a celebratory day." My father is a different case, I know that, but I'll have the first dance with him tonight. I spend an hour showing Mr. Carver around, since he asked what jewelry I'll be wearing with his dress. I show him the tiara I'll be wearing, nothing extravagant, but delicate with its diamonds. The tiara is nearly ninety years old, but it's one of the newest pieces in the Astor vaults. It will set nicely on my hair.

I explain the other simple, diamond accessories. Since the dress has a collar of sorts, I will not be wearing a necklace, instead, I'll be wearing a thin silver bracelet on my wrist, and simple earrings, not too simple studs, but nice dangles.

"You will look lovely, as always, Princess." Mr. Carver says, and bows to take his leave, since he's staying in a hotel in the capitol. My conversation with him was nice, but I'm left by myself in the royal vaults, not really a vault, as it's guarded enough. The jewelry is in display cases, and I find myself starring at the crowns used at the coronation ceremonies, the one with the velvet "cap" inside a crown of gold is the one Genevieve will be taking her vows as Ruler of Astor in eight months. I've realized that I've nearly been counting down the days, and all I know is that it's not out of jealousy. However, sometimes I think I'm scared that my sister will be Queen.

Whose Queen will I be? My own thought startles me, and my face must have alerted Cyril.

"Ah, Your Highness, I think it's due time you prepare yourself."

"Thank you, Cyril." I snap out of my trance, and head for my quarters.

It's now an hour before the party's official starting time, and thirty minutes until the dinner to be held before then. Instead of a grand, lengthy table, there's more of a restaurant setup, you could say, with multiple tables set up in the dining hall. I am dressed and feeling grand, actually, and I've found that my dress does indeed fit me well, the bodice not being to tight, and I like the way the sheer collar feels on my shoulders, and chest area.

The tiara on my head looks every bit as grand as my mood is- Sybil worked her magic once more and my hair is up in a bun, with a few curls framing my face, my bangs (lengthy bangs, of course. I couldn't bring myself to cut them too short) nice and neat. I chose a black pair of heels for the occassion.

I'm simply waiting in the foyer, guests all around me already, smiling and wishing me happy birthday. I've already scanned the crown for Prince Joshua, but there's been no luck so far. Finally, the person I've actually been waiting for comes up to me.

"Elaine." Genevieve smiles, her own crown, one special for the Crown Princess, atop her head. Her dress seems to match her eye color exactly, and it sets well. I return her smile, and compliment her dress.

"Ah, in case you were wondering, about the dinner set-up-" She begins, but I'm not paying attention, reaching down as elegantly as I can, to move my dress' train, a short one, of course, out of the way, as I don't want it to be trod on. However, as I'm doing so, a black mens dress shoe comes into view, and I glance to see a well-dressed prince. My prince- oh dear, not my prince, only the one I've been looking for.

I control my face from blushing as I straighten up to look Prince Joshua in the eye. "Prince Joshua, it's an honor." I say, holding out my hand. He seems to want to say something, but brushes his lips over my hand. Suddenly, I take notice that my bodice, the perfect fit, seems to tight now. Silly heart, I wish it would stop beating so quickly.

"Princess Elaine, it is my honor. Happy birthday." Joshua says, eyes cast down, looking as though to study the pattern of lace on my skirt. Genevieve smiles at him.

"Prince Joshua, how lovely." She says, and I notice the look in her eyes. She's studying him, since she's convinced as everyone else that he is courting me. Not that I wouldn't wanted to be courted by someone like Joshua; and, as Genevieve is my sister, she knows well who I have my eyes set on.

Joshua bows, and greets her as well, before departing, wishing me happy birthday once more, and heading over for Prince Wilfred, who is, as per usual, standing next to a bubbly Prince Roberto. I feel like I can breathe normally again.

"Silly, silly Elaine. You've had suitors and boyfriends before." Genevieve whispers, leading me around, since she knows her away around people that will strike up needless and time-consuming conversation. I search for my answer, and it follows a light sigh.

"I do feel it's different now that I'm older, after all, the country of the next man I court could one day be the kingdom I'll be Queen of. And that, Genevieve, is odd to think about." I say, truthfully, and it is a funny thing to think about. Genevieve shakes her head slightly, the light catching the emeralds in her earrings.

Dinner is called, and we are lead to our dinner table. I remember that Genevieve was telling me about the table arrangements, and now I realize that I should have listened in preparation. Prince Joshua is seated to the left of my seat, and he stands upon our arrival, as a gentleman should. Genevieve sends me a sly smile, but it falls upon seeing a figure.

"Dear Lord," I hear under her breath, "It's Duke Bertrand's weasel of a son."

Duke Bertrand himself, is a well-respected member of the Astorian royal court, but his son thinks it's been far too long that none of the Bertrand bloodline has sat on the throne, even though that is ancient history, and very nearly literally true, as those of my family have been ruling for nearly five hundred centuries.

Earl Galen Bertrand smiles snidely, and bows. "A happy birthday wish to you, Princess Elaine." He would be handsome if not for some crooked bottom teeth, and his off-putting personality. Once, when my sister was eighteen, there was to be a betrothal, but that ended in disaster, with Genevieve, who, back then, had a hot tempter, slapped him across the face.

She looks as though she might do the same once more, but manages a stiff greeting towards him, and takes a sip of fine red wine. As before, Astor is known for its wine exports, and I do adore the red wine best.

Joshua raises an eyebrow. "I do believe I haven't made your acquaintance," He says to Galen, while twirling around the wine in his glass, like taste-testers do, with expertise.

"Ah," I begin, setting down my own glass, still with a smile on my face. I do want to be civil. "Earl Bertrand, this is Prince Joshua, Crown Prince," I place slight emphasis on the words, so Galen knows not to provoke him, and I know that Galen would adore to be a crown prince himself. "Of Dres Van."

Joshua nods to him, "A pleasure, Earl Bertrand." He then sips from his glass.

Galen raises his eyebrows- he's heard the news in Astor, all the tabloids. "The pleasure is mine, Prince Joshua." He then cast his sly hazel eyes towards me, and I fight the urge to send him a glare. It's all about the image, not of just me, but of the Lefford family.

After taking another drink of wine, I turn to my sister, an inquiry popping up in my head. "Genevieve, have you heard on Petyr's illness?" I don't truly think that's the case of my butler's absence, but if it is, then I do worry.

My suspicions, however, are only heightened when Genevieve takes her time with the answer. "Cyril informed me he was ill, yes, and I sent him my regards to get well, and the like." She says, carefully, and with ease.

I nod, though in my mind, I can only wonder what truly is going on. There isn't much small talk for another while, even though I'm tempted, very much so, to speak with Joshua more.

"The hors d'oeuvres." Waiters from the palace kitchens arrive with trays, and put a temporary end to the need to talk.

It is during the entree when Galen speaks his idiotic mind.

"Prince Joshua, might I ask a personal question?" Galen asks, a piece of his lamb, covered in a mint sauce, on the shining silver fork. I myself am enjoying the flavor, but I glance at Joshua to see his expression. He doesn't give the look of someone to ask too many questions to.

"Go on," His answers surprises me. Galen has a smirk, and I'm genuinely hoping for this dinner to end soon, because I can evade the sniveling Earl in the ballroom, and not have to see Joshua angered.

"I've heard those of Dres Van royalty, are not brought up with their parents. Can you confirm this?"

Within the second that passes, I think Joshua's going to burst right then and there, but I hear a clink of silverware being set down.

"Oh, Galen, eat the lamb, and put your mouth to a better use." Genevieve snaps, and I fight back another urge, only this time to laugh at the expression on Galen's face. I can't help but feel the same curiosity, about Joshua's upbringing, since that book I've read from awhile ago is still rather fresh in my mind. What about his childhood? I know his butler has been with him for many years, but other than that... I don't know too much on the prince's past.

I leash my feeling of wanting, almost needing to know more about the Dres Vanese prince, all through the rest of my meal, actually laughing at a few jokes of Genevieve's, and a greeting from my father, who eyes Galen with a pretty distasteful look. Dessert is one of my favorites, and I have many, because of my love for sweets. It's eclairs, which I eat with my fork and knife, as is dignified, but on mornings in the palace, I eat them as they should be, with my fingers.

My birthday cake, I remember, will be cut into when the actual dance is in progress. Rather a tradition, to have the princess, or prince, cut into the cake first. I wonder if I'll even be able to eat anymore after this, but push that aside.

After dessert, there is a moment or two of chatter, before the announcement to make to the ballroom. The royal family, and their dancing partners, are to be the first to rise and go.

My parents, of course, head first. Genevieve chooses Prince Roberto as hers, and I, feeling courage in this moment, ask Joshua for his hand.

Surprised, but with a glint in his eye that makes me all the more curious about his being, he accepts, and we link arms together.

"When is your birthday, if I might ask, Prince Joshua?" I say, while being lead to the dance floor, the King and Queen already dancing fluidly to the music. He takes a moment to answer, doing so when we begin to dance, and I am aware of his hand on my waist. That, right now, shouldn't be of importance.

"January thirty-first, and...I prefer Joshua, Elaine. If I may call you that."

I take a few heartbeats, rapid heartbeats, to respond. "You're a winter child then, Joshua." I reply, with a hint of a smile. He returns the small gesture, and it's almost as though this night has been made, already, even with the awkward, stiff silence at dinner. However, I still feel a need to spend more time, all the time in the world, with him.

What has become of me?


	10. Chapter 10

Dancing can only be done one, or two dances at a time, and Joshua leaves me after the first dance, when my father asks him to kindly switch him partners. So off I see Joshua go, my mother already smiling at him. My father takes my hand.

"You dance well, my dear." He smiles, making me feel like a little girl again, but in a nostalgic way. I smile brightly.

My father, though a King, is known to me as a funny man. He likes to make jokes, and tease, and tonight, his subject of tease is one of the ladies that's known fairly well for holding up her nose. I laugh when my father spins me around grandly, and says just loud enough for me to hear if I've ever wondered as well if Lady Howlett just thinks everything smells horrid. The corner of his mouth twitches, his green eyes gleaming.

"Thank you, Papa." I say, after that dance has concluded. He kisses me on the cheek, his mustache tickling.

"I do wish you a happy birthday, Elaine." He takes another moment to tell me my tiara's crooked, and gets another laugh out of me when he makes it more so in his attempt to fix it. Once its straightened, he places his hands on my shoulders, his eyes soft.

"My dear," He says, and smiles, "Do have a good time." After nodding my head that I will, he leaves, to find my mother once more, who took a few moments after her dance with Joshua to speak with him. My eyebrows shoot up when my father starts speaking to him as well. I know it's nothing to be worried about, because my parents seem pleasant in their stance while talking.

I make my way to find a drink, quite happy to find my favorite, red wine. Since I don't believe I'll be eating until the cake-cutting, I don't take any appetizers that are on various servers' platters. Instead, I get my first glass from a server, who, feeling courageous, I assume, bows slightly and wishes me a happy birthday. I nod, and thank him, ending the thanks with a drink.

Genevieve finds me standing with my glass, studying the crowd. I don't see Joshua at the moment, so my eyes are just trailing around.

"You had two glasses of wine at dinner, Elaine." She states, in an amused tone. I shrug my shoulders slightly- I haven't finished the wine yet, and another glass after this one wouldn't be a bother. Yes, I feel that my cheeks are flushed, and even before then, I was feeling slightly more at ease, as I could say, from those two glasses.

"I'm nowhere near a lightweight, sister. I can still think clearly." I chew the inside of my cheek, "You, Genevieve, were the one who got drunk at Nobel Michel. Which, by the way, was odd." Suddenly, I have a question for her, and I turn to face her better, holding my glass in one hand, the other on my opposite forearm, which may give off the appearance of boredom. Genevieve has a neutral look on her face.

"Was something bothering you then?"

She waves her hand, her bracelet catching the light. "It was months ago, Elaine. I probably was just bored." However, the edge to her voice says something else. What could it have been? Perhaps I'll never know.

I would have continued, had I not felt certain needs needed to be met. I press my glass into Genevieve's hand, earning a surprised look from her.

"I'm going to the ladies room." I say, making my way across the room for the exit, and she follows behind.

"You don't need any help, do you? Because of your dress?" Though I know she wants to help, and may want a moment to talk to me, I say I'm fine on my own, and slip out of the room, the noise from party-goers already muffled in the corridor. I let out a breath of relief, putting a hand on my chest, feeling my heartbeat slow down. Whether I'm tired or just want time for myself to think, I don't know- either way, I would like to make it to the restroom.

The marble restroom is empty, save for the female attendant, who straightens up as I enter, slipping her phone into her uniform's pocket. I take care of myself, and afterwards, look at myself in the mirror, making sure the tiara atop my head isn't planning on falling anytime soon. I would have liked to splash water on my face, after washing my hands, but that would have messed up some of my makeup. I don't believe I have a fever, but it looks as though that may be it. I blame the wine, which would mean Genevieve was right in a way, in my heart, though, I believe the flushing of my cheeks may also be from being with Joshua.

I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. The attendant asks if I need anything.

"No, thank you." I say, making my way out of the restroom, and pausing for a moment in the hallway. I haven't lost my way, but I wonder if it would be too terrible to walk around. Of course, I'm in heels, but they are short and they are bearable. If I'm stopped by a guard or servant, I don't believe they can do too much about it.

A thought comes into my head. The Lefford royal portraits. They're located around the palace, but the majority have their own display room, more so a long corridor. I like to see the portraits fairly often, and it's been only awhile since I've looked at them, but I want to see them, anyway.

I've only made the corner, when I hear footsteps behind me. Turning, it's like my heart leaps.

"Joshua, I was...going to take a walk." I say, as he comes up to me, the look in his eyes giving off the impression he's relieved to have found me.

"Ah, Elaine, I was simply wondering where you had gone." Joshua says, and raises his hand, but draws it back, turning his face. "You have some stray hairs."

I quickly smooth them down, and run my hands over my skirt, before speaking again. "I was going to look at the royal family portraits. Would you care to join me?" I look at him, and manage to keep eye contact with him. There's a moment of just staring, and then Joshua comes to his senses.

"I would like that."

I stand by a magnificent frame, daring to actually touch the portrait. King Ferdinand of Astor, among the first of the Leffords to rule. Joshua's behind me, making a comment on the paintings at times.

"I always liked coming here to see my ancestors. My family." It gives me an overwhelming sense of being, to think that I'm related, however so distantly or not, to so many people.

"Your family is so...large." Joshua's at a loss for words, looking around the hall. He's such a beauty himself, standing out against the paintings. It makes my chest hurt, really, to look at him with such feelings. I glance at my hands, then turn my gaze back to Ferdinand Lefford.

"Being royal is so odd, don't you think?" I blurt, having only thought so, and then am quick to explain myself. "I mean, had we been born commoners, no one would have known who our ancestors were six-hundred years ago."

Joshua's beside me now. "I've never thought of being royal, with that in mind." Now, he almost has a pained expression, and tries to hide it by looking up at the frame. "I can't picture myself being King. Not like my father, or my ancestors." He grew quiet at the end of his statement, and I reach out to take his arm.

"Oh, Joshua, you'll make a fine King. Your people will love you. And I would hope your Queen will, as well." The latter part of my statement has got my heart racing again- must I think about if I was Queen at his side?

Joshua's lips part to speak, and then he raises his hand, to run a thumb along my cheek, pausing on my chin, just below my lips. His eyes are hooded in concentration- he's staring at my lips. "My Queen..." He echoes, and then a deep blush comes across his cheeks, drawing back from me. I think he too, can hear my heart pound. "P-Princess-Elaine, I didn't mean anything from that. At least, I..."

"Joshua, it's alright. I know how you feel." I quickly say, because I believe I can understand what he's feeling. Joshua looks at me.

"You do? Elaine, do you...really?" He presses his back against a wall, with his arms crossed, looking at the ground. "If you do, then I would hope that you know how insane I'm driven at this point."

I step over to him, certain of what I'm doing. I don't think it's the right time now, for anything- I just feel like this. I take the prince's hand, and he's startled.

"We can talk later. They'll be cutting my cake soon- if they haven't already gone searching for me."


	11. Chapter 11

I'm a fool to think that after that moment in the portrait hall, that I could possibly catch another moment alone with Prince Joshua, again. We returned to the party, earning only a few stares, since the cake-cutting hadn't been made to start yet, anyway. Instead, I find myself making eye-contact with him, which either one of us or both end up breaking. The night ends with us departing formally. We didn't even dance together again that night, which left me in a sort of saddened state.

I know that he must have some sort of affection for me- I'm not stupid enough to believe that this is unrequited. And it's amazing, and yet it scares me at the same time. I just want to talk to him- calmly, converse with him, speak on anything and everything we wish to speak on. Joshua Lieben has captured my affections like none before, not Fredrick, nor past suitors that have faded into teenage memories.

I think the palace itself knows about my feelings, in some way or another. Whispers, as I've said before, have followed me my whole life, especially after what would have made me a bride, but now with the whispers have come smiles, that could either be teasing or all-knowing, like if they really wanted to, a servant could whisper gossip into the ear of a reporter. Doing so would obviously earn them termination, so the lips of the palace remained sealed, but still, they know.

Petyr has returned to my side, and currently, we both are walking in the garden. Flowers are of interest to me, I can't name them off like some could, but I know my roses and such. The gardeners have been working hard, as it's a busy, busy season, after all, the days getting longer, warmer, the sun shining more.

I bend over to smell a Chinensis, a type of rose, this flower I smell being yellow. I'm not fond of yellow as a color, but this one hues out towards the edge to be a shade of red, and I find it lovely. Roses are kept in the garden because of my mother and I's fondness for them, and as for Genevieve, her favorite flower are Delphiniums, and they're kept somewhere near the roses. I turn to ask Petyr to cut some for me, because I'm honestly bored with today, the only thing I'm in the mood for is to be left with my thoughts and perhaps a book, maybe even a movie, when I go back inside.

"Petyr, Genevieve's favorite- I would like some to be picked for me." I've been subtlety picking at him, because of my suspicions about he and my sister- which, unlike my parents, I don't oppose, but am more curious on when and if they both have informed each other of their...feelings.

Thinking about feelings has me staring at a red rose, passion, the color stands for, and Petyr catches my attention by calling for me.

"Your Highness," He starts, holding out the blue flowers towards me. I knew he would know my sister's favorite flower, I simply knew. "The Delphiniums." The way his gaze is on me, tells me he knows what I'm doing, and he would appreciate it if I would be more quiet about it. However, his undying duty to the Leffords restrains him from saying so aloud; still, I decide, that is enough for now. What if someone were to pick on me about Joshua, like so?

I take the flowers, thanking him and turning them in my hand. An unroyal thought comes into my head, and I decide to act upon it, because there aren't any garden chairs as far as I can see, and I like the idea of "hiding" among the roses. I take a seat on the ground, now hidden by the hedge of flowers, though you could still view me from where Petyr stands.

Turning the Delphiniums over by the stems again, I note that the blue petals are a rather close shade to Petyr's eye color. Whether or not it is a coincidence, I find the fact charming.

"Is something on your mind today, Princess Elaine? You've been terribly quiet these past few hours." My butler's voice reaches me, and I hesitate to answer, deciding to ask a question which could only confirm the servants' whispers among themselves, but I trust Petyr and know he isn't the type to tell things such as this to others.

"Petyr, how do you know when you are beginning to love someone? Do you learn to, or does it...happen?" My eyes are fixated on the blue flowers in my hand. I wonder out of curiosity what Prince Joshua is doing at this moment, having heard a few days that he was in Philip, Prince Wilfred's kingdom, for some sort of business.

He seems slightly taken aback by my question. I didn't expect an immediate answer, after all, he is only twenty-four, same age as Genevieve, though I believe he is a month or two older. He himself could still be figuring out the answer to that question.

Thinking so, it surprises me that Petyr answers a few moments later. "I believe, Princess, that it could be a little bit of both. You can learn to love someone who, before feelings happened, drove you insane, and then you find that you're being driven insane in a completely different aspect. But, love," He pauses, eyes cast to the ground, and then he continues, "Love can simply happen, realizing it out of nowhere. I don't know how you can tell you're starting to love someone. Maybe you always have, and you just become aware of it."

I process his words, and abruptly stand up, deciding that the time for my thoughts can come later. "Thank you, Petyr." The blue flowers have fallen to the ground, and I don't pick them up, wanting to get inside and busy myself. "Let's take our leave, I think I could use something to eat, as well."

That being said, I think over Petyr's words again as we make our way down the path that winds its way around the garden.

Love can simply happen. You can find that you're being driven insane in a completely different aspect.

These words seem to confirm what I feel for Prince Joshua. Now, there is really nothing more that I want, than to talk to him, privately. The day has to come soon.


	12. Chapter 12

It's been some time since my work schedule has overloaded me like this, before, making me work late into the evening. Once again, I find myself in my office, except I've grown tired of sitting at my desk, and since I have a sitting area for when I'm to take guests, I'm sitting cross-legged on the sofa, glasses on, with a pen being held to my mouth, looking down at a paper in my other hand.

In all honesty, though this extensive paper load is rather important, on cargo and trade, it bores me, making me sigh through my nose as I let my hand drop from holding it up to read. Genevieve is busier than I am, but at least her work allows her to be out of Astor from time to time. A change of scenery would be nice, and I briefly think of Charles, or Nobel Michel, even, when there is a knock on the door. Quickly, I move my feet to slip on my shoes again, a pair of black flats.

"Come in," I say, moving my hair out of my face. I'm trying to not look tired, because I do have to stay up for awhile longer. Petyr opens the door, and bows, before stepping aside and announcing my visitor.

"Your mother, Her Majesty, Your Highness." My mother smiles softly at me, walking, more like gliding, in her queenly manner, towards me to take a seat opposite my side of the coffee table.

"Why're you paying me a visit, Mother?" I ask, looking down at the table while setting down my pen. I cross my ankles formally, folding my hands in my lap. Even in the presence of family, I feel the need to keep on the formal facade. It could show that I'm desperate to please my mother. My parents, in general. Few people have seen me when I'm truly at ease.

"To tell you the news. You know of Prince Joshua Lieben, that has been made clear." Mother smiles, and inwardly, I'm slightly embarrassed. Other than the night in the portrait hall, what is there to be embarrassed about? Even then, Joshua was gentle. I can't let my mind wonder to such things. I nod to let my mother continue.

"Arrangements have been made for an official stay, for the Crown Prince of Dres Van."

My brown eyes widen, and I keep my tone steady. "Might I ask the reason?"

Mother takes a moment to gather her words. "I don't know how much I can tell you, dear. Even I don't know entirely too much, but your father's settled it. Dres Van is having some certain troubles, more than a few scandals happening in government," Her voice drops low, "There was an planned assassination attempt against the King."

My heart leaps to my throat, but the Queen, my mother, continues. "Prince Joshua, however, wasn't in-country at the time. The plot was foiled long before it was set to take action. Tensions, however, are still high. It's best to keep him out of country. He'll stay here for some time. It's...rather a good cover."

Though somewhat relieved, I'm still curious. "Cover? Mother-" Suddenly I realize. Whomever wanted something to do with the Dres Van royal family, wouldn't find it too odd that Joshua would be at the household of a woman he's said to be involved with. Now, that isn't a lie anymore. I swallow my worries, even though I think I can hear my heart thump. "I understand, now."

Mother leans over to pat my hands. "Don't worry. I find he's a suitable match- Dres Van is a wonderful kingdom, as I believe." Smiling once more, she stands, and Petyr opens the door, bowing as she exits.

I stare for awhile, unblinking. "Oh, Petyr. Things are too get a lot more complicated for me."

I can almost hear hear the chuckle Petyr's trying to repress behind his response. "I wonder why you would think that, Your Highness."

The news of Joshua's arrival doesn't do too much but make the maids whisper and giggle more. I never hear a word of it from Sybil, who knows how to keep quiet when she needs to. The day he arrives, I'm actually not told of it, only having been told that it would be sometime this week.

I'm in the hall, speaking with a footman, on something trivial- I just wanted to change the color of flowers that are in vases in different parts of the castles. He's not in charge, but I know he'll speak to who is. I smile in thanks and send him on his way when Petyr comes into view, hurriedly striding towards me.

"Princess Elaine," Petyr says, "Prince Joshua has arrived. Do you wish to greet him in the entrance hall?"

I hesitate, before thinking of an idea. "The library."

"Beg pardon, Your Highness?"

"I'm off to the library, and I'd like to meet Joshua in there."

Petyr seems to gradually understand, nodding. "I'll inform the Prince's butler, Jan." I remember Jan from the time I spent at Dres Van, myself. As my butler leaves, I turn, taking a deep breath. I don't know what to expect from Joshua upon seeing him again, but I'm filled with a sense of hope and excitement.

The library in the Astorian palace isn't as large as the one seen in Nobel Michel, but it has high ceilings and another level to climb up to, to get to the shelves that reach the ceiling. Personally, I prefer the lower level, with its large oak desk, a map of Astor, painted in gold on the top. There's seating all around, and the books, oh, the books. The majority of them are, of course, written by authors from my country, but there are others. The genres range from romance to philosophy to government. A favorite among mine is an epic poem on the first Queen of Astor, and her romance with her King.

I lean against a shelf, waiting to see if Joshua will come to talk to me. I'm hoping, almost a girlish hope, that he will. Within my heart, I know he will. Maybe not even to speak about our relationship, but just to speak. The news of the attempted assassination plan did unsettle me, and perhaps I will be settled with actually seeing for myself that he's alright.

I hear footsteps from the entrance, and then the closing of the large door itself.

"Elaine...?" A familiar voice, a voice I hadn't heard since the day of my birthday, calls out, in search for me. I can't help but smile to myself. So Joshua did come, as I had thought. As I had hoped. I move from the shelf, stepping into his view.

His look of surprise melts into a smile. I knew I'd be cured of my worry by looking at him. He's safe.

"Joshua, you're alright!" I rush to him, hugging him, with my arms wrapped around his torso, head pressed to his chest. I feel his arms returning the hug on my back.

"Of course, I'm alright." Joshua says at first, but then his voice drops to a whisper. "So you've heard?"

"Yes, I heard." I answered, pulling back from the embrace, but taking both of his hands in mine. He doesn't protest, there's even a soft smile on his face. "I'm happy you're safe, and I'm happy you're in Astor, with me."

Joshua smiles. "As am I."

_I feel that I should warn you that the next chapter is to be written in third-person, and not even from Elaine's Point of View. Why, you ask? Oh, you'll see! Things are going to get a lot more interesting! You may know where this is going, from Joshua's route in the game. I'll give you a hint, it does involve Jan, Joshua's butler. That's all that needs to be said._


	13. Chapter 13

Petyr Kearns was never the type to judge quickly. Now, standing with Prince Joshua's butler Jan, he can't help but notice something about him. Jan was indeed loyal to the Prince of Dres Van, but there was something about his aura that seemed simply...off.

At first, Petyr thinks it's simply that Jan must be a new servant. Upon learning that he had been with the Prince since they were both young boys, it makes the Astorian butler think differently. What could it be? Petyr thinks, narrowing his eyes at his own reflection in the silverware he's attending to. He's startled when a footman comes to him with news, jumping slightly and setting the spoon down, the rag still in his other hand.

"Her Highness, Princess Elaine, calls for you." The footman says, pauses, and adds. "She's been with His Highness Joshua today."

Petyr nods, thanks him, and stands, setting the spoon back in its place. He never liked for others to touch work he hadn't finished himself, and his co-workers have caught on to that. He'll come back and see to it later.

Now, he straightens his jacket as he strides down the halls of the palace. Elaine being with Joshua is of no surprise to him. Though he didn't believe there was a scandal going on, like most of the staff did, he wasn't oblivious enough to not know there was something between the prince and princess. Rather like a fairytale story. Theirs would be a happy ending.

Happy endings, he thinks to himself, a mix of emotions, don't come to the Butler and the Future Queen. Genevieve Lefford has been on his mind since the day Petyr met the princess.

He cannot think on this at the moment. His duty is to serve Princess Elaine. He finds her in the sitting room she calls her own, and bows upon opening the door.

"Your Highness?" Petyr asks, waiting for what she needs. Sometimes, the princess will talk to him. Petyr did consider her a friend of sorts, but those of royalty were like stars. You couldn't ever properly reach them, but appreciate their beauty, their power from afar.

Elaine smiles lightly, her brown eyes twinkling. "I've been thinking of planning a day for horseback riding. It's been some time since I've done it, but I want Prince Joshua to join me, as well."

What a surprise, my lady. Petyr gives another bow, mainly so he can grin to himself, and straightens up. "It will be seen to, Princess Elaine. I think I may find a day next week, where it can be done." He knows Elaine's schedule for this week by heart already. He's always tried to stay on top of things.

"Genevieve will be home again by next week. She may want a stead readied herself, then, as well." Her tone is non-cholant, but there has been subtle questions such as these that Elaine has said for a few months now. Petyr refrains from showing unease, but his eyes probably betray him. You could read them well.

"I'll be sure to ask Cyril, as he calls the palace every night." Personally, Petyr suspected Cyril was in a relationship of sorts with one of the maids (or footmen, he couldn't rule that out at the moment). He didn't, and hadn't, ever worried about Genevieve having feelings for Cyril. He knew from the first moment they had kissed.

Of course, she had been the one to kiss him. It wasn't fair, not really, because Petyr had never known if he would only be something Genevieve just wanted to have fun with before becoming monarch, or not. He couldn't marry her, anyway. The King and Queen had always treated him kindly, but the Queen was wary over Petyr's extra fondness with Genevieve.

He loved the woman, and he had since they were both eighteen. All he knew was that Genevieve had feelings enough for him to see him from time to time. He had never told her he loved her, because that would ruin everything. Simply kissing her, simply speaking with her in the way one would with a lover, had done enough damage. Petyr had never laid a hand on her, in an intimate manner of speaking. He simply could not do that, feeling as though he would betray his duties as a butler with that one deed.

Elaine began talking once more. "Petyr, your happiness is important to me."

Her statement takes him by surprise. "Your Highness?"

She presses a hand on the seat cushion next to her. "Sit, please."

He can't refuse the princess, so he does as she asks, perhaps sitting a tad awkward, while Elaine is already seated in a comfortably regal way. She places her elbow on the arm rest, holding up her head as she looks at him.

"You know I know, Petyr. And it makes me glad that you love her."

Petyr casts his eyes down, and then looks Elaine in the eye. He controls his voice. "Might I ask why?"

"Genevieve is not the type, for princes." Elaine states. "I think she wants and needs someone who has grown up, knowing different. Not different royal standards...but the different lifestyle our people have. I know you weren't the worst off, but, do you understand me?"

Petyr nods, as he does understand. "Your Highness, I appreciate that you are alright with it, but..." A sigh escapes his lips. "It's not simple, Princess Elaine."

Her eyes flash, as though she's thinking. She might understand herself, but at least her object of her love is of royalty. His is unattainable and frowned upon still, in this day of age.

Petyr stands. "Your Highness, I have work to attend to. Might I be excused?" He speaks tightly formally again. Elaine tightens her lips like she'll say no and make him stay longer, but she nods her head.

"I'll be in my office most of the evening. Prince Joshua is taking work in the library. Be sure to not disturb him, he won't even let his butler in at the moment."

The mention of Jan has Petyr raising an eyebrow in interest. "Where might Jan, his butler, be, then?"

Elaine thinks over, "I believe he went to the courtyard. Why?"

Petyr makes a white lie. "Business of sorts, Your Highness." He bows, and takes his leave.

Jan, Jan, what is so off about you? Petyr has to handle the situation very carefully, very, very much so. What has he heard in the news, lately, to do with Dres Van?

"Technology concerning military operation has disappeared. Dres Vanese authorities haven't disclosed any information, but there's been talk that the technology was stolen. Prejudice has lead to believe the neighboring kingdom, Nerwan, has something in the matter."

He remembers that newsbreak, just a week before Prince Joshua's arrival. Jan was a close companion to the prince. Certainly the prince would know of some military secrets. What exactly is Petyr thinking? That was accusation of treason. Should he rush to such conclusions?

Petyr slides open a door that will lead him out to the courtyard, making soft noises. Jan doesn't know the grounds like Petyr, and the palace staff would, so he can't be far. Still, Petyr is quick to not make any loud sounds.

The butler to the Dres Van prince is talking on a cell-phone, Petyr sees, when he finally spots him. Eaves-dropping has normally been for maids, but this is a matter of politics, if Petyr's hunch is correct. Honestly, he hopes it isn't.

"Yes, Your Highness, I understand." Jan's voice is low. Petyr can't see his face, as he had come up behind him, but Jan's shoulders are clenched with unease, as though he's worried. Your Highness? Could he be speaking with Prince Joshua?

Elaine had made it clear Joshua was working, and did not want to be disturbed.

"It will be taken care of, Prince Leonardo. Thank you." Jan closed his cellphone, and let out a sigh of relief.

Petyr's eyes had widened. He knew that name.

Prince Leonardo was Crown Prince of Nerwan Kingdom, the very kingdom that had rivaled Dres Van since Nerwan declared its Independence.

Petyr could not do anything rash. Instead, he went to Jan's side, and smiled like he did not know.

"Jan, I've come to ask for help with some palace duties."

He would have to come up with a way to tell the prince.


End file.
